The Blight of Bilbo Baggins
by GodzillasCaptor
Summary: To think it all started with a cough- while studying, of all things! Bilbo couldn't be more embarrassed, what kind of respectable hobbit got deathly sick as a guest? Slow-build Thorin/Bilbo, Ori/Dwalin, and (very light) Bifur/Radagast. (Movie-verse, author severely needs to get around to reading the book.)
1. Little Cough

He was making himself quite at home with the others in Erebor, thriving in the company of his friends, and going on with day-to-day activities as if he belonged. Bilbo had been quite surprised when his friends practically begged him to stay until the next Durin's day, and what kind of respectable hobbit would Bilbo be if he refused? He loved it here in Erebor, but it just simply was not home.

He missed his house, but the feelings waned with each passing day away from the Shire.

He mostly stuck close to his room and near the balcony, reading, writing, and just generally doing things that hobbits do. Including eating six or seven times a day! It was a luxury that Bilbo gladly took, and soon flesh and bone turned into the fine skin of a medium-build hobbit as it used to be at one time. He took to learning and studying the language and history of dwarves- hoping to one day be able to have a full understanding of what his friends talked about when switching to their native tongue.

He gave a small cough while studying one day, and that's what started it all.

* * *

**I do realize this is short, but I intend to take this story all the way- that includes not abandoning it for two years to let everyone down in saying I'll never expand it again, as I have done with another story of mine. However, I will tell you that as soon as I become disinterested in this; everything - EVERYTHING - will get extremely boring and bland. I will tell you when this happens.**


	2. Blight Fever or Bronchitis?

Bilbo cracked his eyes open, groaning softly from underneath the sheets and tugging them closer to his shivering body. Why was the room so bright? He turned over onto his stomach, burying his head in his pillow and giving another groan. His stomach rolled with him, and that didn't quite sit well with him. Bilbo bit down on the insides of his cheeks, swallowing and trying to keep bile from rising in his throat. Ugh, why here, of all places?

He heard his doors swing open and a friendly voice all out his name. Bilbo buried his head deeper into the pillow, his chest squeezing as he wheezed into it and began the most uproariously loud coughing fit he had ever had. Something was _definitely _wrong.

"Bilbo?" The voice sounded close to him, and the burglar slowly turned his head. Balin and Bombur were standing there, Bombur being silent –as usual- and Balin giving him a quizzical look. "Bilbo, lad, what's the matter? You look like death himself!"

"My body isn't necessarily agreeing with me right now." The hobbit croaked, turning back into the pillow and coughing again. Balin and Bombur promptly shared a look of concern.

"Lad, stay here while I go get Thorin and Oin to… assess the situation. Bombur is going to stay with you until I come back." Balin said gently, and Bilbo felt a comforting hand on his blanketed shoulder.

"I don't know where you expect me to go in this state…" Bilbo muttered into the pillow, just loud enough for Balin to hear. The older dwarf chuckled and gave him a pat before the sound of opening and closing doors came to Bilbo's ears, and he was alone with Bombur.

There was a deafening silence in the room, and Bombur took Balin's previous example and laid a gentle hand on Bilbo's back. The hobbit continued to have choking fits every ten minutes or so, sometimes flib spurted from his lips, sometimes he felt the salty tang of bile in the back of his throat, and had to force himself to stop.

Bombur left him for a moment, and then his hand gently shook Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo looked up, seeing his dwarven friend holding a glass of water. He swallowed; the tightness in his throat constricting. Shakily, he took the water from Bombur and took sips. The coughing fits became less and less with how much water he drank, but they still always came to him even afterwards.

The doors opened while Bilbo was in the middle of a rather violent coughing fit, Oin and Thorin in tow behind Balin.

"The lad is coughing up a storm, but I don't think he is contagious." Balin was explaining when they came through, and everyone froze. Bilbo looked up and gave a smile, a tint of red on his teeth. Silence came through the dwarves as Bilbo managed a weak;

"Hey…"

The dwarves stared at him in silence, Oin having a livid look to him, his shoulders hunched and he cast his eyes downwards. Thorin, who was beside Oin, cleared his throat and looked at Bilbo.

"What exactly are the problems you are having?" He said in his kingly manner, Bilbo licked his lips nervously; Thorin and he had made an awkward and tense companionship since their last spat. It sometimes became too much for Bilbo to handle, this might be one of those times.

He forced the fear down, turning his steely gaze down to the covers and rubbing his throat.

"I have a really bad cough, and flib keeps coming out. I don't have a stuffy nose or anything. My chest feels… tight. Like I'm wrapped in an invisible blanket that's pulled taught." He curled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. "The light hurts my eyes…"

He looked down at that, and wondered if he maybe had a couple more drinks than he thought he did the previous night. That wasn't possible though, Bilbo was a responsible drinker. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, as it had become rather ragged and broken. He could taste the copper tang of blood, but passed it off. Probably only his imagination.

Silence enveloped the others once more, and Bilbo eventually lapsed into another cough attack. He hunched over, throat burning and eyes stinging as his stomach threatened to turn over. Oin wandered over, resting his cool hand on Bilbo's forehead and immediately snapping for the others to get back in his overly loud voice.

Bilbo squished his eyes shut tighter, and gave another cough. Something splattered against his hand, too sticky to be spittle or flib. He shivered, hearing Oin talking _suspiciously lowly_ to Thorin. His eyes felt like weights were dragging his eyelids down as exhaustion took hold. He wiped the red clot of blood on his blankets and continued to ignore everyone in the room.

Leaning backwards, he fell asleep.

* * *

Silence. Aching, familiar, deafening.

Silence. Something Bilbo hated and loved with a passion.

He opened his eyes and groggily stared at Oin, who was standing beside Bilbo with a steaming bowl of broth or stew. Bilbo couldn't really tell. Yawning, and ignoring the dull ache in his throat, he reached eagerly for the food and immediately started eating. He was famished! When was the last time he ate?

Opening his mouth to speak, Bilbo squeaked.

His vocals weren't working.

What the hell?! Bilbo panicked, eyes widening and his mouth flailing as he tried to rant his protests of the inability to speak. Oin was watching him with a mirthful gleam in his eye.

"Relax, Bilbo." He said in his loud voice. "Just keep eating your stew. Bombur made it specifically for you."

Bilbo complied, relaxing into the bed he lay in- which he realized wasn't the one in his room. He rose an eyebrow at Oin, but the dwarf just chuckled and made a shooing motion with his hand. Bloody dwarves, didn't tell you anything!

He studied the room; there was a bookcase near the doorway, and a desk with a pen and piece of paper. Not much was here, so Bilbo assumed no one inhabited it. There was an eerie silence and Oin took Bilbo's bowl away. He wanted to ask for more, but was afraid only garbled sounds would make it from his mouth.

"King Thorin wishes to speak with you." Oin whispered, and Bilbo rose an eyebrow.

"For wha...?" Bilbo rasped, his own voice barely audible. Oin shook his head and shrugged, gesturing to the door.

"Can I allow him in here, and do you wish me to stay?" The dwarf asked, even though he looked apprehensive at the thought.

"Go ahea... and let him in… you don't have to stay if you don't want to." Bilbo said, his voice was slightly stronger, and he was suddenly really thankful for the stew Bombur made. Silence, then.

_Knock._

_Knock._

"That would be him." Oin said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Try not to make him too mad now, eh?" Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the dwarf's words, as everyone in the kingdom was well aware of Thorin's temper. Specifically with a certain hobbit that somehow muffed up a lot of things.

There was another knock, seeming more hesitant.

"I would answer the door before Thorin gets angry." Bilbo said softly with a smile, his throat ached and his eyes casting downward. He heard the door swing open and heavy footsteps. Bilbo took the few moments he had alone to tuck himself even deeper under the covers and just peek his eyes over the trim.

Thorin walked in, looking very Thorin-ish as he sat down on the edge on the bed and gave Bilbo a stare.

"How are you feeling?" The king asked, and Bilbo raised his eyebrows slightly.

"I wish I could speak, but I'm afria..." He tried to clear his throat. "It's not real... an option..."

His voice kept fading out, and he cleared his throat again, looking annoyed. Thorin shifted, looking at the walls.

"You don't need to talk then. Just use your hands, or face." He instructed. "Have they told you what room you are staying in?"

Bilbo shook his head, and Thorin looked mildly amused.

"You are in Fili's room. He left a few days ago to go study politics and... other things I wont bore you with. Of course, you would have known this if you haven't been holed up in your room for the past month." Thorin said, a smile tugging the corner of his lips. Was Thorin being... humorous? Did the king even know what humor was?!

Bilbo gave a disgruntled look, sticking his tongue out under the covers. The king shifted again, looking awkward... as he should! Bilbo still seethed over Thorin's maddened greed with the Arkenstone and gold. The hobbit sneezed, quickly covering his nose with both his hands and then getting thrown into a coughing fit. Oh for the love of-!

"Bless you." ...?

"What?" Bilbo wheezed.

"I said bless you, do your people not bless each other when their heart stops?" Bilbo was bewildered, when did his heart stop?!

"When did my heart stop exactly?" He asked, eye twitched as the thought of his heart _stopping_ sunk in. He gave a loud wheeze. Thorin gave him a concerned look and tilted his head.

"Did you not know that your heart stops for a millisecond every time you sneeze?"

"WHAT?!" It was a whisper-shout, and he slammed his head back onto the pillow behind him, eyes wide. "No! I did not kn... that!" The gaps in speech were back, and he cleared his throat.

Thorin smirked and shook his head, a soft chuckle sounding from him. Frowning, the hobbit untucked himself and glared daggers at him.

"Don't you have someth... kingly to do?" Bilbo asked, annoyed, and Thorin turned a stare to Bilbo, smile gone and eyes hard.

"Well considering I only have one nephew to deal with, the court members left yesterday, and we are on no adventure right now, I have almost nothing to do. It's a godsend, if you ask me." Thorin said in a metallic voice. "You're the only person who can sit still long enough for a decent conversation, and it's not like you can make an excuse to go somewhere."

Bilbo rose an eyebrow, he wasn't surprised that people made excuses to get out of talking with Thorin. Just how many times did it happen for him to notice though? Bilbo felt guilty for a minute at that thought, but honestly, Thorin could be an ass without realizing it... unless he did realize it and just embraced his assholiness. Bilbo doubted that, but it was an amusing thought.

He chuckled darkly, covering his mouth with his hand and coughing a few times. Thorin glared, as if reading his thoughts. Finally, Bilbo manageed to choke out through giggles and coughs, he honestly feared that if he laughed anymore Thorin would strangle him.

"Well... go ahead an... talk!" He coughed through the whole thing, his voice fading in and out like mist. Ugh, this would take some getting used to.

"What would you like me to talk about?"

That left Bilbo with nothing, he didn't really care for the dwarven tendencies, and he most certainly did not care for killing things.

"Tell... tell me about your family." Bilbo said bravely.

Thorin immediately locked up, Bilbo could almost see the mental barriers he was building, and he didn't doubt that the dwarf would avoid the order. He did too, just shaking his head and glaring at Bilbo.

"My family is none of your concern, hobbit." Oh great, he was back to calling Bilbo 'hobbit' again. Bilbo rolled his eyes and pulled the blankets around him tighter, he hadn't realized until now that he was shivering. Oh how he longed for a nice cup of honey'd tea with a little bit of mint. That tea always warmed him right up, even when a snowstorm came through the Shire, the tea kept him warm, alive, and kicking!

The door suddenly boomed open, and Kili stormed in with a cluster of dwarvish curses and creative hand gestures.

"Uncle Thorin," He said in a quickly calmed voice, though his face was still red. "there are two wizards that seek your company!" He pointed, and in the door indeed stood two wizards. One with ragged grey robes and a kind face, the other in equally tattered brown linen robes, he looked a little strange... was that mold in his hair?

"Gandalf and Radagast..." Bilbo rasped, a small smile on his lips. Thorin glared at the newcomers, but motioned for them to come in. Gandalf made himself right at home and sat at the writing desk, smiling at Bilbo with what looked to be mischief. Bilbo rose an eyebrow at him.

Radagast, on the other hand, stepped inside and sat cross-legged on the floor. However odd that seemed, Bilbo had already guessed that the wizard was not in the right mind anyways, so why question him?

"Is there something you need?" Thorin asked, watching Radagast- though the question was clearly directed towards Gandalf.

"Radagast and I simply happened upon the same trail, we both came to see how your claim over Erebor is coming. Next thing we know, we hear that 'the beardless dwarf with large feet' is deathly ill and that it might be Blight Fever." Gandalf said with a smile. "Yet I do believe he has nothing but a case of bronchitis."

Radagast stirred at his name, looking at Bilbo then back at Thorin, his eyes bright. He smiled when he caught Bilbo staring, and took off his hat to let a small bird flit around the room. Bilbo smiled as he watched it, and Thorin had yet to notice- too busy glaring daggers at Gandalf.

"A good thing too, it'd be a shame to have him die so young." Radagast chimed in, cause that made the situation so much better.

The bird landed on Thorin.

_The bird landed on_ **Thorin.**

It'd been awhile since he last heard the terrified shout of a dwarf, and the bird apparently wanted him to hear it again. Biblo doubled over laughing while Thorin's face changed colors. White, to pink, to red. He scrambled off the bed and away from the bird, and Bilbo laughed even harder, until he was interrupted by the worst coughing fit yet.

No kidding, he actually saw the blood fly from his mouth and onto the sheets... that is, before he passed out.

* * *

**First chapter kind of sort of sucks, and it is a lot shorter than originally planned. **

**Radagast has a secret~**


	3. Just a little Incision

Bilbo once again woke up feeling half starved. He was getting pretty tired of this scenario, it was as if he was playing pretend for his cousins again. He basked in the memory; they would play 'doctor' with him as the 'patient' and feed him small bits of 'medicine' (which was really mint candy), and generally fawned over him while he was 'sick'. The memory was so clear, yet it felt foreign to him, and left a pang of homesickness in it's wake. Bilbo didn't open his eyes, in fear of what he might look up to see. Soft voices came from a little ways away, and Bilbo couldn't help but listen in.

"Will Master Baggins be alright?" A young voice asked, and Bilbo determined it as Ori. They had often traded books and formed a friendship, Bilbo even asking if Ori might be willing to illustrate any literature that Bilbo did. The scribe had gracefully accepted, and Bilbo often felt a touch of warmth whenever he saw the young one.

"I am unsure, his heart is healthy and strong but..." The older voice answered, and Bilbo frowned thoughtfully, straining to hear and determine who it was that had spoken. "he is very weak. Coughing up blood is sometimes a sign of trauma, but the battle is two and a half months past. Bronchitis is no longer in question, it appears that the 'flib' he had described was actually bits of the food he ate and clotted blood. I'm afraid..." Bilbo suddenly had no doubt that it was Oin, the elder was often blatant and crude- even if he was deaf. "I'm afraid that our burglar has contracted Blight Fever..."

There was a collective gasp, and Bilbo wonders just _how many _people/dwarves were talking to Oin.

"Please continue, Oin." Gandalf rumbled softly, and Bilbo could just feel the tension get ten times worse. Another voice piped up, high and speedy, not unlike a rabbit.

"Yes, do continue! This is not good at all!" Radagast the Brown. Bilbo was surprised that Thorin hadn't kicked the wizard out for what he had done, but the fool dwarf always confused him.

"As some of you are aware, Blight Fever starts out with an inhalation of an infected plant part. It _has_ to be inhaled, not swallowed. When inhaled, the plant sticks to the back of it's victim's throat, this causes any and all coughing, and prevents proper nutrients from going through without most of them being leeched off by the illness. The immune system fights it- this causes sensitivity to light, shivers, baking heat, and takes a lot out of the victim. Sometimes the plant part will etch into the skin, causing inflammation and sometimes loss of voice, inflammation will get irritated, and blood will soon be caked around the area. No matter how small the area is, it will continue to grow in size until the carrier eventually dies from suffocation, starvation, or his heart giving out."

Very blatant indeed.

He could hear heavy footsteps coming towards him, and Bilbo tried to keep his face blank as cool fingers brushed over his throat.

"I am assuming that this rather small but distinguishable lump is where the part is being contained?" A rough voice asked, definitely _not_ belonging to the fluttery fingers on his neck. Bilbo assumed it was one of the wizards that touched his neck, as he was fairly certain that most dwarves had calloused hands.

There was a shuffle of clothing, and all was silent for a moment before Radagast spoke up in his rather twitchy way.

"Has Bilbo been outside recently? Or perhaps hanging around one place for an extended period of time? We do not want this... fever... to spread, we must burn the infected plant immediately!" Again, silence. Until Thorin's voice rose up from what seemed to be a long distance away.

"He has been spending most of his time in his study and at the library. There are no plants in the library, but I remember him bringing in a few plants for his study; saying something about 'adding a homely touch' or some sort." Bilbo was surprised that Thorin even remembered those words, as the hobbit had not meant for anyone to hear them.

More silence, and Bilbo could only guess that the others were sharing looks of uncertainty.

"Very well." Radagast said quietly. "I will look into these plants, but no one is permitted into his study until I have destroyed everything that the plant could taint... We will just have to hope that nothing important to the lad has been. I have heard of people only surviving the illness once, but never twice."

"He will need surgery," Gandalf added, oh so helpfully. "and that means Bilbo will be delirious for at least a day or two. He will probably be unable to feed himself, or take proper care of himself. I suggest a few dwarves should volunteer to take care of our dear little hobbit. The poor thing doesn't even know about what is going on yet."

There was more silence, and then one shaky voice floated gently into the air.

"I'll be one volunteer, I just need to get a few books and I'll be all set." It was Ori. Bilbo felt relief, he was afraid that someone he was completely and utterly awkward with would volunteer.

A rather garbled array of words followed, and Bofur's voice rang out. "I'm not sure if Bifur should do his part alone..."

"Nonsense, I will be present with anyone who is unsure of themselves or just wants a bit more company than an unconscious hobbit." Radagast said, and mirth coated his tongue. "It has been awhile since I've heard someone speak so fluently in Khuzdul, I'm impressed."

"I'll be the last volunteer, three is plenty, as well as the thought of having two wizards in company, it might get a little awkward if there were more than us five taking care of the hobbit." That sentence terrified him, and Bilbo fought to keep his face in a controlled peaceful blank emotion. Thorin, King Under The Mountain, had suddenly volunteered. It scared Bilbo witless, and Thorin's voice was closer than before- just to his right.

Cautiously, the hobbit turned so he was face-down on the pillow, burying his face in it and resisting the strong urge to cough. He had begun to shiver, clutching at the blankets that swallowed him and sighing softly into the bed. He assumed he had been moved again, but for now, he didn't care. Most, if not all, of his questions were answered.

"When should we schedule his surgery?" Gloin, he sounded a bit frightened. "Surely you cannot wait much longer before he dies." Whoever 'you' was, they make an uncomfortable grunt.

"I suggest in two days time. He needs to wake up before we can do anything, and if I know a heavy sleeper... It's Bilbo." Balin said, although a little humor tinged his voice, no one gave a chuckle or snark. Someone gently shook Bilbo's shoulder, and he immediately looked up to see Radagast's face too-close to his.

"But he has been awake most of this time." How in the world did the senile wizard know? Bilbo didn't exactly leap up and make his presence known when they started speaking.

"I'll send for a few more healers, I'm afraid that Oin may not be able to finish this task on his own." Thorin said, ignoring the Brown and looking at the company. "Now we all need to make it known that Bilbo's study, or his quarters, are off-limits. No one goes in, and if they do they are to be examined for everything they are worth. We cannot have an outbreak due to one's stupidity."

Those words stung a little, but knowing Thorin- No, knowing any dwarf in the world, he knew he could have insulted him further if he pleased.

"Should I send word to Fili?" The somber voice of Kili made Bilbo jump, as it was right behind him. Thorin shook his head.

"Fili cannot be distracted at the moment by an illness. If Bilbo has a high risk of dying, only then will we send word." There was a murmur through all the dwarves, and Bilbo sensed that they did not agree with keeping Fili in the dark. Judging by Kili's dark look, he was right.

"Bilbo, how many plants do you have in your study?" The gentle voice of Radagast spoke up yet again, and Bilbo had to think for a long moment.

"I think I have four... no, five. Three are in the windo...- they are mint plants; chocola..., peppermint, and spear. One is by my desk... and it's a Forget-Me-Not... and the last one..." He paused again, furrowing his brow. "I think it is a Zinnia. I've quite forgotte... that I had that one... it is locat... in my other window, put into the corner so it can get its nutrie... I couldn't fit it with the mints!"

They looked bewildered at him, each a look of surprise. His voice kept fading in and out, and it continued to irritate Bilbo like nothing else.

"Give me a brea...! Back in the Shi...re I had abou... twenty more!"

"Thank you Bilbo, well if you have that many plants with an infected one, there is almost no doubt that all of them have the disease now." A pause of silence, and Bilbo looked at his hands, crestfallen.

"You'll have to burn them." He whispered, and felt a little satisfaction that his voice didn't fade. Maybe he would just have to whisper-talk his way back to health.

"We will get replacements eventually, Bilbo!" Ori said, do doubt trying to lighten the hobbit's mood. "Or we could get more than that! Then it could really feel like home for you!"

His heart gave a pang at that word 'home'. There was an awkward scuffle of boots as Ori looked at the ground.

"Bilbo are you okay with the surgery in two days?" Gandalf asked, being ever the peacemaker.

"Could it be in one day? I happen to like eating." Bilbo whispered, and everyone nodded. He smiled and felt satisfied that the whole ordeal would be over soon. He coughed a little, no blood flying, but his stomach churned uncomfortably. "Speaking of eating..."

A few dwarves rushed out of the room, Bifur and Bombur came back holding a large bowl of what looked like corn chowder. Bilbo's mouth watered. Bofur followed afterwards with a small smile, carrying a glass of... juice? Probably raspberry juice.

Bilbo dug in as soon as the bowl was set before him, and many dwarves left as soon as he started eating. Ori, Gandalf, Bifur, and Thorin stayed.

"Who's room am I in?" Bilbo whispered between mouthfuls. Thorin continued to glare at the ground, probably too deep in a brood to even acknowledge Bilbo, while Bifur and Ori shrugged.

"You've been moved to the healing quarters of the mountain, near the top of the mountain. You are simply in a guest room." Gandalf rumbled, a smile crossing his face.

"Hey Bilbo, I finished the book you gave me the other day, would you like me to get it for you?" Ori asked, giving a chipper grin.

"It's fine if you keep it for awhile, Ori." Bilbo replied softly, trying to control his voice. He set the empty bowl aside, and Bifur promptly took it and exited the room, and Bilbo picked up the glass of juice, downing it quickly. It tasted of blueberries and strawberries, which wouldn't be a bad mix if Bilbo hadn't had anything to drink in forever and his mouth tasted of blood, vomit, and corn chowder.

Still, he downed the whole think in seconds, eyes drooping as he realized he was being pulled under by something in the drink.

"Sorry Bilbo, but you will need your rest before you go into surgery. I have a feeling you don't take well with stitches in your throat." Gandalf said softly, just as the darkness enveloped Bilbo.

* * *

As Bilbo was pulled under, Ori looked guiltily down at the ground. He didn't like the thought of tricking his friend into taking the sleeping drug, but he supposed it was for the best. The lad then looked at Gandalf, he wasn't nessesarily fond of the wizard, but there were many tricks up his sleeve and, time and time again, Ori found himself either being extremely grateful or extremely annoyed by them.

The scribed sighed, and looked over at Thorin. The king both terrified and entranced him, as he had never seen a day go by without Thorin have a rant about _something._ Usually about Bilbo, or politics. Although Ori recalled a time when the king ranted for literally two hours about how Smaug had utterly abolished the main hall, and how Thorin would have to spend so much gold on rebuilding and re-aligning it, so it was just the way it used to be. He had woke up in a panic that night, though he wasn't exactly sure what he dreamed about, he knew it had something to do with the king.

The main hall was gorgeous now, after Thorin snapped out of his maddened greed and hate for Bilbo, he had graciously rebuilt the grounds and paid a generous amount of gold to all of the workers. Ori couldn't recall a time when Thorin was so nice, except for maybe when he hugged Bilbo, or long before Smaug came along and ruined everyone's lives.

Ori gave a start, realizing he had been staring at Thorin the whole time he had been think, and blushed slightly. He looked at his shoes.

There was a knock at the door, and Dwalin stepped in with Radagast on his heels.

"All three mint plants have the disease." Radagast confirmed, holding up a sack. "I took all the plants though, there is a chance they are infected, but don't show signs yet." Ori stared at Dwalin, who had walked over to Bilbo and looked down at him. The scribe averted his eyes as Dwalin turned around, directing a question to Thorin.

"The healers are on their way up, would you like them to start today or tomorrow?"

The king pondered a moment, his brow creasing. Ori could swear he saw a hint of concern in his majesty's eyes, but he passed it off as his imagination. The scribe looked back at Dwalin, who was looking back at him. Ori smiled brightly, and was surprised when Dwalin smiled back.

He looked back at Thorin, who had turned to look at Gandalf.

"I think the hobbit would appreciate it if they wait until tomorrow, but he is in a rather dire state of health..."

Gandalf nodded at the king's words, getting to his feet and looking at the Hobbit.

"Do this tonight, but make sure he is under heavy, very heavy, sedation. Hobbit's are always very aware of their surroundings, and I would hate to hear it if Bilbo woke up in the middle of a cut."

Ori shuddered, now _that _would be horrid.

"I will send them up then." Dwalin stated with a small bow, casting another glance towards the scribe. Ori rose an eyebrow, but smiled.

* * *

"Pliers."

"Incision knife."

"... (Distilled) Water!"

"Now!"

"Needle."

"Give him a shot! Quickly!"

"Pliers."

_The leaf came out with a small ripping sound, clinging to the swelled flesh._

"Water! Quickly!"

"Stunt the flow while I flush it out."

"Needle and thread!"

_Weave, snip, weave, snip, weave, snip, weave, snip. _

"Eight stitches, these are the ones that disintegrate over time right?!"

"Whew, I was worried for a moment."

"Wait, is he waking up?! DID YOU GIVE HIM THE SHOT?!"

"Let me do it...!"

"Okay, he is under now... no thanks to you..."

"Stitches, the ones that don't disintegrate."

_Weave, snip, weave, snip, weave snip._

"Only six for this one? Are you sure that it will stay closed?"

_The two healers shared a glare, unaware of the oxygen levels leaking away second by second._

"He's not breathing!"

"Quick, get him the oxygen tube!"

_Color flooded back into the hobbit they had worked over, and his breathing regulated._

"Should we take him back to the guest room or-?"

"Are you joking!? Of course we take him back. He needs a warm bed and lots of water, fool!"

"... I'm not a fool..."

* * *

Ori paced outside of the rooms, Kili was at his side, ranting about something under his breath. The scribe swore that he became more and more like King Thorin every day. Suddenly, the prince fell silent.

"What's wrong?" Ori asked carefully. The prince had been more and more irritable the past week, and something always seemed to bother him.

"I... I miss Fili." Kili said miserably. Ori glanced at the prince, and then patted his shoulder, trying to be comforting.

"Aye, we all miss him, but he'll be back in no time! How long did King Thorin say he would be gone? A month or so?" Ori said gently, though he really had no idea how to interact with Kili. "It's not that long if you think about it. You two will be back together in only a bit less than three weeks!"

"Yeah? But he wont be the same. He'll be all proper, and he'll have to attend meetings, and then we'll have no time together." Kili said in a somber tone. Honestly, Ori had no idea where Fili was or why he was there, but hearing that gave him an idea.

"People can be buried in knowledge, but everyone has a dwarfling side to them... I'm sure-" He had to grit this part out, it sounded rather lame, even to himself. "- even King Thorin has his own fun side."

"What would that be? Scolding dwarves and glaring at everyone for fun?" Kili growled, shaking his head. "I don't want Fili to be like that, we're supposed to be together, always! Mother even said that if Fili doesn't protect and stay with me at all costs, that she would skin both him and Uncle alive!"

_Well his mother sounds very charming._

"Trust me, Fili will be your best friend until the end. Look at Nori and Dori! Dwalin and Balin! Even Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur!" He paused. "They all have their differences and their own professions, but they stay close as ever."

"Yeah... I suppose it won't be so bad..."

The door swung open, and the two healers held a slumped Bilbo in their arms. A noticeable cut what on the side of his throat, and stitched with three full threads, cut into six stitches.

"He's out-cold, almost woke up mid-operation." One said breathlessly, he was short and walked clumsily, while the other who glared daggers at him was a bit taller than him and more... narrow. Ori frowned, concerned with what the short one said.

"We sedated him before he was fully conscious." The tall one said when he saw Ori's face. "No thanks to Elorin here!" Again with the glare. Heh, this healer was a bit funny with his blatant rudeness.

"Help us take him to the guest room." They said in unison, and Ori quickly took Bilbo's shoulders. Kili took his feet.

_I wonder what he'll say when he sees the cut on his throat._


	4. Thorin You Hypocrite!

As soon as the sedation was dulled enough, Bilbo literally jumped awake. His throat tickled and he kept clearing it, trying to make sense of what was going on. A cup of water was put in front of him, and Bilbo eagerly drank it, yet the feeling did not wane. His mind was foggy and his free hand's fingers kept opening and closing over the covers. Someone else was in the room, but his mind couldn't focus enough to tell who it was.

He felt woozy, as if he was drunk. No, this was a bit more powerful than that, and simply not right. Bilbo squinted, trying to determine who was standing at his bedside.

"What's going on?" He asked drowsily, drawling out the words. "Where am I?"

"He'll be like this for a day or two, make sure he doesn't leave the room." Someone said, someone close to the dark figure that gave him the cup that he now clutched in his hand. He pulled it into his chest, looking and trying to focus, but he just couldn't.

"Wha-? Why can't I leave?" Bilbo complained, pouting and trying to drink from the empty cup. Gentle hands removed it from him, and after he gave a loud whine over how thirsty he was, handed the cup back. This time it was filled.

He held it to his lips, but something on the way went wrong and he felt water splash his shirt. He laughed and tried to get up to change, but a hand was put on his chest and the cup held to his lips again. It was the dark figure doing this, as Bilbo had not noticed that the other one had left. He gulped it down, some water dribbling from his lips as he numbly swallowed. A napkin wiped the liquid away, yet the figure still did not speak.

The hobbit reached out- trying to see the face clearly. Long hair got tangled in his fingers and he jolted the head forward, squinting and trying to make out who it was. Two blue eyes, a pointed nose, and a close-crop beard. The figure made a noise of protest, trying to dislodge Bilbo's grasp but instead Bilbo clung on, frowning.

"Who are you?" Bilbo asked in a shrill tone, he was so confused. What was going on? Where was he? Who was giving him water?

"Thorin Oakenshield." A deep voice responded, still trying to get rid of Bilbo. Bilbo let go and leaned back- banging his head on the wall and grumbling at the small amount of pain that flared up.

The name sounded familiar, did he know him from somewhere? Bilbo struggled to remember. All he could recall was someone wanting to kill him for something or another. Yeah, that sounded right. Did this... Thorin want to kill him? No wait, they had gotten over it. Something like that.

Bilbo rubbed the back of his head, and found himself trying to get up again. This time no one stopped him as he hobbled over to the desk that was nearby. Bilbo picked up a quill and some parchment, scribbling on the paper and ignoring the person behind him. He muttered to himself about mint plants and flowers, and there was suddenly nothing in his hands.

He had crumpled up the parchment and thrown it at the Thorin person. He still couldn't see worth shit, but he already knew what was about to happen, or something close.

"Why did you do that, hobbit?" Was the deathly cold voice, and the smoothed out parchment was put back into Bilbo's hands. The hobbit smiled and went back to writing on the wrinkly thing. The dwarf person behind him read his writing aloud.

"Forget-Me-Not's are for remembering everything about your life, Zinnia's are for thinking about absent friends and family, Mint is for all the virtue the world contains, and Oak is for strength. The term 'Oakenshield' is to show strength in one's shield and guard in battle... what?" There was confusion in the dwarf's voice, and Bilbo turned with a proud smile.

"Your name is Thorin Strong-shield!" He said happily, turning back around to doodle on the scribbled parchment. He could hear the distraught sigh behind him, and turned around to see Thorin with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Smugly, Bilbo again bunched up the paper and threw it in the dwarf's face. A smudge of ink appeared just under one of his eyes.

He was suddenly hoisted into the air and laid down on the bed, tucked in snugly.

"Stay." The voice commanded, and boy did he sound angry! Bilbo laughed, but obliged as weariness overcame him so suddenly that he became dizzy. He closed his eyes.

* * *

A few hours had passed when he woke up again, and he woke up to see the dark dwarf slumped in a chair and snoring. Bilbo grinned and got up from the bed, tip-toeing past the Oakenshield person and trying to open the door to outside without causing a bunch of noise. He failed, and as he pried the door open he felt coarse hands wrap over one of his wrists. He was hoisted into the air yet again, and settled back onto the bed.

Bilbo crossed his arms and glared at the Oakenshield one.

"Why can't I go?" He whined, frowning. The dwarf gave him a weird look.

"Where exactly would you go to, you hardly know where your own room is, much less anywhere else!" The dwarf snorted, and Bilbo pouted.

"I do too know places! The library is uh... uh..." The memory slipped him as soon as he was about to say it.

"You can hardly write, I doubt you'll be able to read." The dark one chuckled.

"Then I'll make you read to me!" Bilbo said cheerily. Strong-shield stared at him like he was crazy, and Bilbo mocked him, glaring while trying to keep a smirk from appearing.

The dwarf sighed and shook his head.

There was a thump at the door, not really a knock, but more like someone had run into it. Thorin quickly got up, and opened the door. Bifur toppled through the doorway, and Radagast stepped over him, looking completely content.

Well then.

"I came to check on Bilbo." Radagast said in his weird way, Bilbo glared, still mocking Thorin for his broodiness. "I see he is still under the influence of medicine, and I can't say that's a good thing!" The wizard chuckled, offering a hand to Bifur. Bilbo suddenly realized how weird it was that he recognized those two, but not the Strong-shield one. Did Radagast say something about medicine?

Still mocking Thorin, Bilbo put his head in his hand and stared directly at the dwarf, pursing his lips as if in thought.

Radagast was helping Bifur up, a fond smile on his face as the dwarf thanked him in Khuzdul. Bilbo rose an eyebrow, but otherwise did not comment on the shared looks.

There was a tense silence, and Radagast waved his hand at Thorin.

"Your shift is quite finished, you may go now!" He said enthusiastically, as if he had been waiting all day (or was it night?) to stay in residence with Bilbo. Thorin got up with what looked to be a relieved face, and Bilbo quit his mocking posture.

"Bye Strong-shield! Or was it Oakguard? What?" He asked himself absentmindedly. Thorin gave a half-hearted wave as he walked out the door, leaving Bilbo alone with Radagast and Bifur.

"Bilbo won't remember anything when the medicine wears off." Radagast told Bifur with a smile. "I'm actually very surprised that Thorin managed to keep him in this room for so long."

Bilbo frowned. "Why can't I leave?" He asked for the billionth time, not satisfied with all the other excuses. Radagast grinned widely, waving his hand again and gripping his staff close to him.

"You can't leave because you have no where to go!" The wizard chuckled, looking at Bifur with raised eyebrows. The dwarf responded with another bunch of weird tongue, looking back at Bilbo with a grin.

The hobbit crossed his arms and huffed. "I can go to the Shire!"

Radagast winced. "Keep talking like that and you'll disturb your stitches, lower your voice, Master Hobbit. Besides, you can't, no one is permitted to leave Erebor-" He cut himself off, waving a hand as if to dismiss what he just said. "You are in no condition to travel."

"But I want to leave this dreaded room!"

"M-master Baggins?" Ori's voice suddenly said, muffled by the door. "I heard raised voices, is everything alright?" The young dwarf opened the door and poked his head in, eyeing Radagast and Bilbo warily.

"No one will let me leave this room!"

Ori glanced at the older beings, looking a bit nervous.

"Would it kill you guys to take him somewhere else? I really don't like seeing my friends uncomfortable..."

"I assure you that Bilbo is completely comfortable, the problem is him walking without looking completely smashed on the strongest ale you have!" Radagast said with a smirk. "Besides, curfew was passed hours ago, he could very well be arrested just for that."

"Since when does Erebor have a curfew?" Ori asked with a puzzled look to Bifur, who had the same look on his face.

"That is to be explained at a different time." Radagast said firmly. "Now I suggest you get in here before a guard finds you."

Ori walked in and closed the door behind him, staring at Bilbo.

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel like I'm being held prisoner because no one lets me do anything!" Bilbo huffed with anger in his still-rising voice. Pain flashed across his features as he gave a strangled cough.

"Now he's done it." Radagast murmured, and looked at Bifur. "Please get him a glass of water."

Bilbo doubled over and coughed some more, eyes watering. Eventually he stopped, and snatched the water from Bifur to chug it down, hardly spilling any like he had at first.

"The medicine seems to be wearing off a bit, he might want to sleep so nothing worse happens." The wizard mumbled, leaning on his staff and peering at Bilbo through squinted eyes.

Bilbo was about to object, ready to claim that he was restless, but instead another glass of, not water, juice, was pushed into his hands. Not thinking about the previous juice incident, Bilbo eagerly gulped it down before realizing what it was.

The blueberry-strawberry taste wasn't as strong, but it was definitely there, and Bilbo could feel the claws of sleep ready to snatch him away in seconds.

Sometimes he really hated his friends.

* * *

Fili dismounted from his pony, approaching the gates with his hood pulled tight over his head and his hands behind his back. He tugged at the metal bars, giving a grim grunt as he pulled them open with a loud screech of rusted metal. As he wandered into the yard, he was acutely aware of the rain pelting down and the startled whinnies of his pony.

He approached the door and knocked softly on it, keeping his eyes low and waiting for a few moments. No answer.

He tried the door knob, and it easily turned in his hand. Humming softly, he peered in, the only thing that met him was the musky smell of mildew and dust. Fili swore under his breath, walking slowly through the hall and peering closely around every corner. He couldn't hear any living creature, nor could he hear anything moving.

The silence was eerie, and Fili felt a chill roll down his spine as he tried to hear something over the pitter patter of the rain. He trudged through the house, staying as quiet as he could. The house felt abandoned to him, but he was very sure that this was the place Uncle had assigned him to, as the king did not make mistakes as important as this one.

A voice suddenly chimed up from behind him, that of a young woman, silky and soft in the empty house that surrounded him.

"I know what you're looking for..." She breathed, and Fili slowly turned around, eyes darting over the empty hallway he just exited.

Nothing, not even an extra pair of footsteps on the dusty ground.

"... Can I help you...?" The voice whispered, too close to his ear for comfort. "I'll make you a deal..." A cold breeze caressed his cheek, slightly turning his head to the left. "... I will show you the prize... but then you have to free me from this essence..." Another caress, this time lightly over his shoulders, the chill going through his thick leather armor as if it was thin silk.

A white figure came into the corner of his vision, and Fili turned to look at the ghostly presence, only this was no ghost.

"How do I know you wont take my soul in the process?" Fili challenged, eyeing the land siren with a glare. "How can I trust that I can return home safely?"

The siren pouted, clearly restricted to the place she stood.

"Dearest..." She whispered. "I am attached to your prize... if you take it, I will go with you... and, dearest..." Her smile turned wicked. "We wouldn't want any _accidents _happening once I get to your home..."

The pet name unnerved him, the entity unnerved him. For all he knew this was a person who guarded his 'prize' with his/her life. He was also unnerved by the way she said the last sentence, and he couldn't help but think of all the dwarves that would fall under her prompts.

"This is just a soul-trap, dearest..." She coolly remarked, one white hand fluttering in the air. "Once it is diminished, my soul will be released and I will pass into the underworld, only to be reborn as ivy, or maybe a cluster of flowers..." She smiled again, being calm and gentle, as if she hadn't just hinted on stealing his friend's souls.

He had to admit that the thing she was encased in did look like a soul-trap. It wrapped tightly around her like a second skin, and it was what gave her the white fluff that clouded off of her. Fili steeled himself, preparing for the worst.

"What do I have to do?"

"Excellent, just pick up your prize..." He approached the box, skirting around the soul-trap and picking up the silver-lined cube. "... and now open it up... I swear on my soul that it will give you what you search for, and free me into the next life..." She paused. "...It really is a pity... you look like such a nice young catch, I suppose I'll have to wait a few lives though..." Fili chose to ignore the remarks, opening the box and picking up the key he had indeed been looking for. It was attached to a small beaded chain, with intricate runes scribed all around and over it.

"Now what?" He snapped, growing impatient with the fluttery siren.

"Now you just need to tell me a secret. A secret that you would not tell anyone else, not even your family or lover..."

Fili groaned internally, he didn't really _have_ secrets. His life was the definition of protection and bland day to day activities revolving around nothing more than knowledge and experience.

"Give me time..." He grumbled, casting a glance out the window. The entity chuckled.

"I have all the time in the world, dearest..."

That was a good thing, but Fili had a question.

"Can someone else know the secrets, such as a very close friend or brother?" He and Kili knew each others secrets like nothing, beside the fact that they shared a few. The siren fell silent, eyes skirting over his face.

"Oh, you wanna play the game _that _way? How about this..." Misty fingers brushed over Fili's cheekbone, and he grimaced. "... It does not have to be any secret of yours, any dirt you have on someone will do. Think of it as... a way to release..."

Silence was all that met her words, as Fili had already lapsed back into thought. What did she mean by 'the game'?

"Alright... I guess no one will know if I tell a secret..." He said cautiously, still thinking. Then he remembered one of his own secrets, one that continued to fester inside him whenever someone brought it up.

"Sometimes I wish I got more out of being me than my brother, many recognize _him_ at a glance, but as soon as I roll around the corner, it's all polite smiles and introductions. I mingle with everyone in Erebor, and yet no one remembers my face. I try to have fun, and I try to be the one who has a level head but a rebel streak. No one notices the silent blonde dwarf prince, but everyone recognizes the obnoxious brunette prince!" He ranted, then, after realizing what he said, put a hand over his mouth.

The siren smiled, wicked teeth looking sharper. "Just a little bit more, dearest..."

"Everyone remembers his birthday, but when mine comes around it's just a obstacle that everyone goes around. Would it kill them to show a little more passion for the _heir _and not the spoiled prince that the _heir_ is forced to protect!?"

The siren was gone, and the key's markings slowly faded. His neck hair raised, and the room suddenly dropped in temperature. Fili hung the key from his neck, darting back through the house and running to the gate. He tugged them back open, the same screeching of the gate now sounding more like a woman's shriek, and quickly mounted his pony. His kicked her flanks, and the stout creature took off, her ears pressed to her skull and her eyes rolling.

Soon he slowed, his mount was breathing heavily, and water dribbled from her thick coat. Fili didn't want to overwork the animal, and he took a map from the saddlebags, observing where he was at.

There was a silence as Fili turned around, realizing that he had ran the wrong way. "Blasts, must have gotten my sense of direction from Uncle Thorin."

The pony beneath him whinnied and stomped her hoof against the ground. Fili sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair, turning his pony with a growl. The ranting to the siren had left him in a bad mood, and he would no doubt be pressed for details by Kili once he got home, although he was younger than Fili; Kili had a rather perverted mind and could turn the most innocent sentence into something completely different.

Guilt plagued him for what he said to the siren, as Fili really did love his brother, and he was sure his brother felt the same. The prince was tired of it though, tired of being ignored until extremely needed.

He set a slow pace for the pony, just letting his mind wander as he made his way back home. It would be about a week-long trip, perhaps a bit longer.

* * *

Thorin honestly did not know what he expected when he walked into the room full of arguing dwarves.

Ori and Dwalin were nose-to-nose, glaring dangerous daggers and being in a heated discussion. Radagast and Bifur were trading insults back and forth in Khuzdul.

All of this was going on while Bilbo sat, smug as ever, on the bed, drawing something on his wrist. He was cross-legged, and completely ignoring the shouting of dwarves and the wizard.

Thorin felt a prickle of annoyance, there was no doubt that the hobbit was being neglected while the others argued back and forth. Thorin went into the small kitchen, grabbing a clay glass and filling it with a few pints of water. Honestly, the lot that Thorin had to deal with acted like a group of dwarflings at times!

He exited the kitchen, walking as kingly as he could next to the hobbit and holding out the glass. Water was honestly the only thing that Bilbo had been craving for the time that Thorin had spent with him. Thorin would think he would be starved by now, but the hobbit never asked for food, just water, water, and more water.

Thorin was pretty sure that the hobbit had a total of two meals for the whole 30 hours he had been conscious, and the king was pretty sure that it was Bilbo who ate seven meals a day.

The hobbit snatched the cup from Thorin's hands, chugging it down like he was dying of dehydration. Thorin turned a steely glare towards the arguing pairs, raising one eyebrow for good measure and lowering his chin ever so slightly. Ori saw him first, paling and nudging Dwalin. The warrior looked at Thorin, then closed his mouth in a tight line, staring back. Thorin nodded to Radagast and Bifur, and Dwalin sighed.

The warrior clasped both of their shoulders, making a pointed look to Thorin.

The king glared, saying in a very cold and malicious voice; "Can I ask why my men... and wizard... are arguing like rabid dogs?"

"Oooooh, Strongshield's mad!" The hobbit piped in very helpfully, his voice a bit higher than normal. Thorin looked down at him, noticing the markings on his arm. Forgetting the question, he lifted one wiry wrist and observed the writing and drawings.

The runny ink had smudged a little, but Thorin still could tell that what was drawn had been a dragon. Probably Smaug, and another drawing was what looked to be _Sting_, and another was a ring. Thorin traced the lines, and then read what was underneath silently.

_Once there was a hobbit._

That was all it read, and Bilbo was smiling brightly. Thorin face-palmed, shaking his head.

"Who gave Bilbo a quill and ink?" He asked, utterly calm. "I'm not mad, I just hope that it is not the fine ink that is used for scripts and writing."

He was fuming inside, he leaves for 15 hours and comes back to this. Thorin was starting to consider getting new friends.

No one fessed up, and Thorin waved his hand. "You lot are clearly incapable of taking care of an ill person, leave."

Slowly, they all walked out, and Bilbo waved cheerily. Ori smiled back at him, and Thorin felt satisfaction once he was alone with the hobbit. He looked the man up and down, tilting up his chin to examine the stitches. The skin around it looked a bit red, and Thorin wondered if he should call a healer in to look at it.

Bilbo squirmed, obviously uncomfortable until Thorin let him go and sat down in a nearby chair.

"Ori brought me books!" The hobbit said cheekily, and Thorin groaned inwardly. He was certainly _not _going to read to the hobbit. The hobbit got up, surprisingly light on his feet for being so drugged up, and picked one book up, practically shoving it into Thorin's hands, and almost collapsing when he lost his balance.

Thorin barely managed to keep him upright by grabbing his arm before he fell. That would have been a rather awkward situation to walk into- as the hobbits face would have been buried in his chest and Thorin would most likely end up with his arms around him.

That did not, and would not, happen.

The king guided Bilbo back onto the bed, and the hobbit sat cross-legged again, looking perfectly content and alert. He headed back towards the chair, and picked up the book, reading the cover in a bland voice;

"_The Silken Revenge._" What an odd book title, but if that wasn't weird enough, the cover picture was that of a crow perching on an olive branch. Bilbo leaned back, sighing contently and closing his eyes. Thorin continued to the first page, raising an eyebrow at the text.

" 'There was nothing more frightening than almost having your head chopped off the minute you enter a new place. It was almost as if everyone had it out for Reduila every time that she stepped outside...' " He continued reading, finding himself immersed in the text until the chapter ended. He snapped the book shut, looking at Bilbo. The hobbit looked to be sleeping, his chest gently rising and falling in a calm way, and his face a blank mask.

Thorin smiled, glad to finally have the hobbit off of his back and ready to just relax. The hobbit would probably be back to normal by tomorrow, and Thorin couldn't say that he was sad about that. Drugged Bilbo was much less proper than normal Bilbo.


	5. A lot of Awkwad

Bilbo yawned, stretching leisurely and rubbing his eyes. He rolled his shoulders, looking around with another yawn. Where was he?

Pain suddenly scratched at him, and Bilbo rose a hand to his throat, fumbling to get out of the covers and get a mirror. As he rose, blood rushed from his head and he suddenly fell to the ground, landing with a loud thump.

His hissed in pain, looking up and seeing Thorin waking up.

"What the...? How did you manage to do that?" The king asked, grabbing Bilbo's arm roughly. Bilbo made a strangled noise.

"Let go!" He gasped out, shaking his head and trying to make sense of what was happening. Thorin basically pushed Bilbo onto the bed, the king was shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

"My throat hurts!" Bilbo snapped, making to stand up again. Thorin pushed him back down with one hand.

"Stay here, I will get you water... then we will talk. I'll send for a healer to look at your stitches."

"My sti- What the hell is going on?!" He closed his mouth at Thorin's glare, swallowing the rest of his words.

Soon the dwarf returned, handing Bilbo a glass of water and returning to the chair he had previously been sitting in. Bilbo chugged the water, the cool liquid soothing the fiery ache in his throat and bring on a new sensation: hunger.

Bilbo's stomach gave a loud growl, and he blushed. Thorin just smirked and rose again.

"I knew the others weren't feeding you, you only wanted water..." He exited and re-entered again. "Here, you'll need food to make a good recovery. It might be a bit cool, but Bombur made it specially for you." He said, handing a plate stocked with food to Bilbo, along with eating utensils and Bilbo eagerly ate, stuffing mouthful after mouthful with starved vigor. Thorin sat down again, looking weary.

"Now let me tell you how much of a _pain in the ass_ you are when you are on pain relievers."

Bilbo snorted, surely he wasn't that bad!

"You couldn't sit still for more than a couple minutes, you threw paper balls at my face- and they had fresh ink on them, and you wanted to leave this room for some reason! Then, somehow you managed to bring every dwarf and even a wizard to an argument while I was absent, and forced me to read _'The Silken Revenge'_, and you just simply would not be quiet with the Strong-shield nickname!"

Bilbo's cheeks turned pink at hearing all of this, as he didn't even remember going into surgery, much less causing an argument among his friends!

"Strong-shield nickname?" Bilbo asked hesitantly, and then looked at his hands. "Where am I anyways?"

"Apparently Oak is a symbolic plant in your culture, meaning strength or guarding. You are in the healing wing of Erebor, and you will probably be assigned to a new living quarters. We have to burn everything that was in your study... everything."

Bilbo's eyes widened, all of his work would be lost?!

"No you can't do that! I have so many things written down in there, I cannot just drop everything and leave them!" He said in a panicked voice. Thorin gave him a look. "Please! My papers aren't even exposed to open air, they are in an air-tight leather satchel that I bought in..."

He stopped there, frowning. Bilbo knew all too well about how Thorin despised the elves, and he had a feeling that no personal belongings would be spared if they were elven made.

"... where I bought the thing doesn't matter, I just want- no, need, those papers!"

Thorin just shook his head. "There is a chance that the satchel carries pieces of infection on it. If the papers were to touch it..."

"I am willing to take the chance."

"Even at the cost of your life?" Thorin challenged, rising from his seat and beginning to pace. "This is no fever, Bilbo. Blight Fever has a specific function to kill and feed off of everything it infects! If you get the fever again, there is a very small chance of survival. _No one_ has survived it twice, being too weakened from the first time to fend off the infection until it was removed."

Bilbo was trembling, and he couldn't even help himself from doing it.

"Thorin, those papers are what I have been working on for the past two months. I cannot burn them, I would be burning away two months of my life, and memories that I will always hold dear to me- even if I end up forgetting them once I age."

Thorin stopped pacing, glaring at the floor.

"I will see what I can do, but hobbit..." The king's voice was dangerously calm. "... I will only blame myself if you end up with Blight Fever again."

Silence met his words, and Bilbo looked everywhere but at the king.

"Could I have more water?" Bilbo asked shakily, finishing off the last from what was on his plate. He set the plate aside, holding out the cup to Thorin as the King Under the Mountain took it with an almost apprehensive look.

The hobbit leaned back, taking in the room with half-closed eyes. His throat still ached dully, and the was a small ticklish feeling on the inside. He would have to thank whoever it was that had performed surgery on him. He had a vague memory of hearing two people arguing for some reason. Probably a dream he had while drugged up.

Thorin came back in, lingering at the doorway for a moment before handing Bilbo the glass. Instead of downing it as fast as he could, he just sipped it. Thorin looked uncomfortable, and that made Bilbo uncomfortable.

"Why did you volunteer to take care of me?" The hobbit asked, mildly curious and coughing softly into his hand. Thorin gave him an amused look, turning to look out the window that sat just beyond the writing desk.

"I would like you to trust me again, I know you and I have not been on the best terms of late, but apologies are only words. As the saying goes; '_Actions speak louder than words._' ... besides, I doubt you want Bifur, Radagast, and a head-over heels Ori to take care of you when you are in need of medical care."

"Head-over-heels?" Bilbo said with a confused look, and tried to make a joke. "So someone has finally caught his eye over all of the books and knitting?"

Thorin smirked back at him, nodding.

"I'm afraid the dwarf is rather oblivious to his... approaches." The king said, and Bilbo frowned.

"How does dwarf courting work?" The hobbit asked, genuinely interested. Thorin tilted his head.

"Dwarf courting isn't really something spoken out loud or grandly presented, it is more of a... mutual bonding that happens. One dwarf might hang around his or her interests for an extended period of time, offering to do things and generally be friendly... Another dwarf might leave small gifts for his or her wanted one, and others might have their own way to show it." Thorin shifted where he was standing, looking rather awkward. "It just depends on what kind of dwarf it is, what their personality is like."

Silence again, and Bilbo coughed into his hand.

"Hobbits are very different compared to dwarves."

Thorin didn't look particularly surprised by this, but he did raise an eyebrow in question. Bilbo blushed and stuttered.

"Y-you see, we talk and hold hands, and share food. It is very similar to human courting. We like to dance with each other and give each other gifts, and take each other to places of awe." Bilbo shrugged, smiling a bit.

"What about _you_ Thorin? You might want to choose someone before it's too late- and yes, I know you have your heirs, but don't you want little dwarflings of your own?" Bilbo prompted, looking expectantly at the king. Thorin just frowned, sighed.

"I have my suitors, but I don't have much interest for them. If I am to choose a consort, I would like them to be both my mate and my friend. I do not care for looks." He answered eventually, lowering his eyes and looking even more uncomfortable. "I raised Fili and Kili like my own once their father never turned up... I am not sure if I want to go through that again."

Bilbo snickered, and Thorin gave a tentative smirk back.

"Who is Ori even trying for anyways?" Bilbo asked, genuinely curious now.

"Ah... Dwalin." Bilbo looked up, eyes going a little wide.

"Oh my... I'm afraid that makes too much sense, and none at all." Thorin gave him the look. You know, _the _look.

"Care to explain, halfling?" Thorin asked, and Bilbo shook his head, grinning.

"He's been doing all of this stuff, studying warrior profession, asking Dwalin to do favors for him, and just being not- Ori-like. I had no idea it was for Dwalin's eyes! Does Dwalin return the feelings?" Bilbo pried, as he only wanted the best for his friend.

Thorin shrugged.

"It is not in my authority to tell or know about such things."

Either way, Bilbo was happy for his friend.

"What time is it?" He suddenly asked, yawning into his hand and taking another sip of his water. Thorin looked out the window, shrugging again.

"I've been here since about sunrise, as soon as curfew was lifted actually, and that was a few hours ago. So mid-morning, maybe a bit earlier. I should probably get a healer to check on you..." He made for the door, and Bilbo frowned since when was there a curfew?

"I feel fine, the stitches just hurt a bit when I-" _do anything _"-swallow or brush them."

There was a silence, and Thorin slowly eased back into the room, sitting in the chair. There was a content silence, and all of a sudden Thorin pulled out a stack of papers and a quill, filling them out while Bilbo watched.

_How rude_. The hobbit thought, frowning and staring at Thorin- who was continuing to ignore him. Bilbo shuffled deep into his covers, clearing his throat (that hurt like hell) and opening his mouth to speak again.

"When will I be allowed to leave?"

Thorin looked up briefly and gave a little tilt of his head.

"You are very eager to leave, why? Most dwarves would love it if they got a few days out of working their heads off and got to rest." Bilbo rose an eyebrow, coughing softly and sipping at the glass he clutched in his hands.

"I am eager to leave because I have been stuck in this room for three days, and would like to return to the comforts of my own living quarters- even if they will eventually be burned. I would like to salvage everything I can, and that includes my books."

Thorin just shook his head, the dark tresses of his hair falling to hang loosely over his shoulders. Bilbo stared a moment, but then looked away, out the window.

"Besides, I am a hobbit, I like being outside and with friends, not holed up in a room for extended amounts of time." Thorin looked up from the paperwork, raising one eyebrow at Bilbo before putting the papers back into a pocket in his long cape-like coat.

"Very well, hobbit. If you are so eager to leave, you might want to wash up and look presentable before doing so." He said quietly, and disappeared out the door with a few more words. "Knock twice once you are done- the bathing room is just past the tiny kitchen." The door closed behind him, and Bilbo felt satisfied now that he was in his own private company again.

* * *

As soon as Bilbo was ready- that included after drinking two more glasses of water and chewing on a mint leaf- he knocked on the door and shakily stepped out into the unknown territory of the Healing Halls.

He fell in step beside the quick pace of Thorin, having to tell the king a few times to slow down and fumbling to catch up. Bilbo was still curious about the curfew thing, since when was Erebor so guarded that a curfew was needed?

"So... curfew?" Bilbo prompted awkwardly. Thorin gave him that look again, maybe a little more quizzical than normal... it soon turned into a blank stare.

"Oh, you were not present when it was announced." He said, and Bilbo really wanted to remark on his _great_ explaining skills.

"And...?" Bilbo prompted again, getting a little frustrated with the thick headed dwarf.

"And... nothing. It is a precaution for any dwarf under the age of seventy, there is a whole throng of reasons that I have passed this, but the most important one is the word of Orcs we have been receiving from our allies. Apparently they are not taking too well to their leader being lost, and have found someone new to bare their teeth for- like the mangy dogs that they are, they fall loyal to anyone who offers them revenge."

Bilbo couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, Thorin was being pretty hypocritical about revenge- considering that he took thirteen dwarves to their almost inevitable death to reclaim his home, throne, and gold.

Oh, and to kill a three hundred ton dragon that could breathe fire and destroy a large town in a matter of minutes.

Thorin was looking at him from the corner of his eye, and Bilbo could almost see him reading his thoughts.

"Is that all?" The hobbit paused. "I realize that the orcs are a threat, but just how close are these allies? For all we know, the orcs could be miles upon miles away!"

"Did you not hear me, hobbit? I said there was a whole throng of reasons."

"Well there is clearly something else, because I seriously _doubt_ that the orcs have made a full recovery in two months and are brandishing their spears at us! They would be living in fear of your kind for years before attempting to take anything from you! What is it? There is no use in keeping secrets as a king, because they will eventually be found out by _someone_!"

Bilbo's face turned rosy from that, and he heaved a huge breath after it. He could now recognize the halls they were passing through- they must be going down the mountain. Thorin fell silent, his lips drawn in a thin line and his eyes narrowed.

"That is classified information, only the royal court and a few choice dwarves are allowed to know about it."

Bilbo suddenly felt his stomach drop, and he spluttered for a moment. "You didn't...!"

_Fili is being sent out because of this, no wonder Kili hasn't been himself!_

"I didn't what, hobbit?" Thorin asked in a grim voice, eyes cast downwards and shoulders tense.

"Thorin! Fili is your _heir_! You can't just send him off on a journey like that! Do you know how many people could- could-" Anger bubbled up inside of him, and Thorin's voice did little to help it.

"If any harm comes to Fili, whomever dealt it can and will be punished severely. Honestly halfling, do you take me for a fool?"

_Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to._

"Besides," Thorin gave a wave of his hand. "Fili is perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and by the letters I have received from him, he is making good progress." The king sped up slightly, pulling ahead of Bilbo by a few steps.

"What is he even making progress on?!" Bilbo asked, getting quite annoyed with the stubborn dwarf beside him. He winced and rubbed the good side of his throat, pain lacing up and down the column like an electric shock. Thorin didn't answer, instead choosing to stop walking and allowing Bilbo to run face-first into his back.

"We're here, you requested to come here frequently while on your medicine..."

The library.

_Not just any library_. His mind whispered to him, and he felt a chill.

The royal library, accessible to only those that Thorin permitted to go into.

Bilbo made a strangled sound in his throat, pushing through the doors and staring at the rows upon rows of books. His mouth gaped wide open as he took in the huge place. There was a staircase that lead to the walking area near the taller books.

"Oh gods..." Bilbo murmured, eyes wide. Thorin chuckled behind him, waving a hand.

"Go on, I didn't take you here so you could stare at them. Books were meant to be read, as I recall."

* * *

Thorin watched Bilbo go through the books with vast amusement, the hobbit was going from one shelf to another, pulling off more books that Thorin thought he could carry.

Honestly, had he not known how much of a book worm that Bilbo was, he would have passed the library without a second glance... But the hobbit looked like he belonged in here. From his clothing to the warm smile on his face, he just looked so at home that Thorin was kind of jealous.

"Maps!" The hobbit suddenly gasped, picking up a scroll and unwinding it with excitement. He barely glanced at it before throwing it onto the still-growing pile like it belonged to him.

Thorin sat down in a chair, just letting the hobbit entertain him with this, but after a few minutes the excitement ebbed away, and the hobbit sat down to actually examine the maps, books, and scrolls that he had picked up. The noise was over, which only left Thorin with one thing; paperwork.

Inwardly groaning, he took out the small stack of papers, about twenty or so, and looked at each and every one of them. He had about seven filled out, but he just wanted to throw the papers away.

_This must be the report of how much rubble was cleared from the mines._ Thorin thought, filling out the paper with a bored expression. _About five or six hundred workers plus, with a wage of fourteen skrilla per hour, ages vary from thirty to one hundred and ninety. Supplies are all provided, but appreciated if said dwarf brings his own. _

"Thorin?" The king looked up, finding Bilbo nearly a foot away with a book in hand.

"Yes?" He asked, glad to get away from the blasted paperwork.

"What does this word mean?" The hobbit asked, holding out the book and putting a finger over the word.

_Yamal_.

"That word means 'with pleasure'... why did you choose a book with Khuzdul in it?"

The hobbit looked down shyly, and Thorin wondered why he was all of a sudden so bashful- it wasn't like it was a secret that dwarves spoke the language.

"I thought it would be interesting, besides, most of the book isn't in Khuzdul, just common."

Thorin looked back at the book, and sure enough, there was common language in there and the only strange word was Yamal. The king shook his head.

"You are a strange one, hobbit." He said, going back to the papers and sighing.

They stayed in that room for hours; Bilbo with his books, and Thorin with his boring papers. It wasn't until noon that Thorin realized the time, and he had to disturb the hobbit from reading more than he already had.

"Hobbit, unless you wish to starve we should head to the dining room. I'm sure the others would be pleased to see you." Bilbo looked back at him, looking annoyed for a minute before his stomach gave a growl. Blushing, the hobbit bustled past him and made to open the door.

"That sounds nice, I suppose I am kind of hungry." Thorin suppressed a snort at Bilbo's words. Rising from his spot, he tucked the papers back into his large pocket and put the quill back in it's rightful spot, following after Bilbo.

Thorin quickly took lead, guiding Bilbo down the halls. He could hear the hobbit breathing quietly from behind him and wondered what the others would think. The stitches were quite prominent, even if Bilbo tried to cover them up with a collared shirt. The hobbit was very predictable.

They pushed the grand doors into the room, and Thorin quickly took his seat at the head of the table, happy to find that he was not late. Gandalf sat on the other end of the table, and Radagast was shortly to his right with Bifur just across from him. Oin and Glion sat near the middle, arguing about something rather playfully, and Balin sat at Thorin's left, whereas Bilbo took his right.

"Where's Dwalin?" Thorin asked Balin, hiding a small but knowing smile from the warrior's brother.

"Taking up his time with Ori, he is." Balin replied shortly, looking rather dejected. "I am surprised that they don't just lay together already, it gets quite annoying to hear them yammer on and on about the most irrelevant things."

Bilbo choked on some of the water he was sipping on. "Pardon? Isn't it improper to lay with someone before marriage?"

"Maybe in hobbit culture," Balin said with a wink. "but us dwarves must show that we trust our beloved in some way, that one just happens to be the most prominent and widely chosen."

Thorin watched this all go down with raised eyebrows, he didn't know that Balin would be one to pay attention to such things, and much less be so open about it. Bilbo just looked curious though, a smile trying at his lips while he asked a question that made Thorin wish he could disappear.

"What about dwarf women? In the shire it was looked down upon (but not rejected) to lay with one of the same gender."

_That is certainly something you don't ask when people are eating._ Thorin thought, then realized how much he sounded like Bilbo. Oh Mahal, the hobbit was starting to rub off on him!

"That... is really a question of whether or not you wish to shame a dwarf or not. For all you know, Thorin could be a dwarf woman." Balin said teasingly, though Thorin was not amused.

"I'm as much a woman as Dwalin being the most gentle dwarf in the earth and having a heart of fluffy kittens and sparkles." Bilbo's look of surprised went to relief, and Thorin scowled.

"What Balin means to say is that you usually can't tell the difference between a male and female... just usually, though their clothes might give it away. I think no male dwarf in the right mind would wear a cooking apron that read; 'Mom's house, mom's rules'!" Thorin said, making a small jest to steer away the awkwardness of the whole conversation.

Balin chuckled, and Bilbo gave a tentative smile, looking at the plate that was suddenly placed in front of him. Bombur smiled brightly, as if he had heard the whole conversation, and set another two plates in front of Balin and Thorin. Thorin quickly took a bite of the banana bread, keeping his eyes away from the others as the rest of the company began to wander in.

Last to come in were Ori and Dwalin, though they didn't speak, the stares their directed towards each other was enough of a hint for Thorin. Yes, Dwalin did return the feelings, and no, Ori was not walking funny. Thorin didn't know if he should be relieved for impressed, instead averting his eyes to the rest of the company as they sat down to eat.

The hum started up as soon as everyone was seated, some talking cheerily, others stuffing their mouths with everything that would fit.

Then Thorin noticed Kili.

The lad looked miserable, picking at his food while keeping a small conversation with Ori. His face was pale, and some sweat trickled from his forehead, his brown eyes kept darting around the table as if afraid someone would take too much notice of him. Thorin knew Kili missed Fili... but to this extent?

Something was definitely wrong, and Thorin intended to figure it out.

* * *

**I am warning you right now, the next chapter does have a minor trigger warning. It is nothing serious, nothing that will change your life forever, but I do know that some sensitive souls are out there reading this, and that there are some of you who experience this thing that I plan to bring up. It is actually something that I used to have a problem with. Almost like an addiction- only Thorin will catch it right on time.**


	6. Too Many Secrets

**Minor trigger warning. It is nothing serious, nothing that will change your life forever, but I do know that some sensitive souls are out there reading this.**

* * *

The company's hum of satisfactory food and talk slowly dulled, and some were beginning to take their leave. Thorin watched Kili, the young dwarf was picking at his food still, having barely touched it. The king rose as soon as his nephew did, following him out while calling over his back;

"You may return to the library, I need to take care of some business."

As he exited the room, Thorin quickly noticed how Kili made a beeline for his own chambers; the lad was rubbing his temple with one hand and pulling at his dark tresses with the other. He followed on quick footsteps, trying to stay quiet.

"Kili, what is wrong?" Thorin asked as soon as Kili made it to the door. The prince gave a small start, turning to face Thorin with an anxious look in his eyes.

"Nothing, Uncle." The prince said softly, and Thorin rose an eyebrow.

"Don't lie to me Kili, what ails you?" He said in an equally soft tone, making his way towards the lad.

"Nothing!" The prince said fiercely, yanking open the door and disappearing inside. Thorin didn't hear the lock click, and wondered if Kili even knew he had one. The king opened the door softly, making sure it didn't creak while he quietly moved inside the room. He heard violent sounds coming from the prince's room, and Thorin ran- as quietly as he could- to peer inside.

Kili was hunched over, his face buried in his palms. Thorin immediately ran to him, enveloping his nephew in his arms and whispering soft words to the prince. Thorin had seen him like this before, and was shocked to see that Kili hadn't gotten over it like he thought he had.

Anxiety.

That meant only one thing- Thorin had to get his brother back as quickly as possible. Fili was the only one that Thorin knew who could snap Kili out of his own mind and back into reality. The prince was relaxing into his embrace, openly sobbing into Thorin's chest.

"What if he doesn't come back?" Kili whispered. "What if he's dead, laying in a ditch somewhere. We would never know!"

Thorin could only assume that Kili was talking about Fili, and he found it both endearing and worrying that the prince cared so much for his brother.

"Fili is going to be fine, I have not gotten a chance to catch you today, but he sent a letter. He will be back in a few days, and he expressed how much he missed you." He repeated himself, trying to calm the tense prince. "Fili is going to be fine."

"It feels like he's been gone forever." Kili whispered into his chest, and Thorin pulled him tighter into his arms.

"Kili, how long has this been going on?" He asked softly, not wanting to pry too much, but needing answers.

"E-ever since Bilbo got sick..."

"Kili..."

"I swear, it hasn't been long!"

"Your actions and looks state otherwise." Thorin said warningly. "Go bathe, and get a good meal inside of you. As soon as I get word of Fili, I will inform you."

* * *

Fili almost trembled with relief once he stopped at an inn, his back ached, his stomach growled, and his forehead throbbed for each jostle of his pony. After leading the pony to an open stable and paying the stablemaster, he pushed his way into the inn, quickly searching for the owner and reaching for his coin purse once more.

"Hello," He greeting quietly. "I would like to rent a room for the night, do you have any available?"

The stout woman nodded, holding her hand out greedily and saying in a hushed but throaty accent; "It's four skrilla for a good room, unless you want to cut the price for a less leisurely stay."

Only four skrilla? That was nothing compared to some other fares that Fili had to pay. He put the coins into the woman's hand, and she lead him up a few stairs and into the second hallway.

"Third door on the left," She said quickly, and she sounded like she was talking through cloth. "have a nice stay, and leave by the time of noon unless you wish to be taxed."

Ignoring the woman, he quickly made for the room, flinging the door open and closing it with a soft click. He collapsed on the bed and yawned into his hand; glad to find that the room was more than decent enough for staying. The bed was soft and warm, and the small fireplace kept the room from being frigid. His bones ached, but Fili knew he had to write before stumbling into sleep.

Silence dominated the room as he pondered what to write. His life hadn't been exactly the best thing to write about for the past few days, but Fili knew just how much his letters meant to his brother and Thorin- even if they both denied it.

_Dear Thorin (and Kili),_

_I am writing to inform you of my current state of health and wear. I am currently at an inn writing this, though I might be back at Erebor before you receive this letter as I am only a few hundred miles away and have the speedy pony that was gifted to me by Dwalin. I am in good health, no more than a sneeze or two, and a headache. How is everyone in Erebor? I know I haven't been gone too long, but a lot can happen in a week. This trip has been going a lot faster than planned, and getting the key was little to no problem for me. Very easily and peacefully done, if I do say so myself._

_How is my brother? I think that is the real question that lies in my mind right now. We have always been close and I do wish he was at my side for this adventure- no matter how short it is. I miss his smiles and, however annoying they can be, jokes about you and Bilbo. _

_Please send word,_

_Fili_

The letter was short, and Fili doubted that it would make it to Erebor before being soaked in rain or snow- winter was coming, and nothing good came from that. Fili would send the letter tomorrow, after he had rested and refreshed himself, probably by a messenger or footman, but if he happened to find a messenger pigeon, he would use that.

Rolling it up and tying it with soft, but hardy, cloth, Fili returned to the warm comforts of the bed, and drifted into sleep.

* * *

Bilbo was just starting to put the books back when Thorin came through the door, his shirt stained with what looked to be water. Bilbo rose an eyebrow, but otherwise did not comment on it. Instead he strained to put a book in it's proper place- just a bit too high for him to reach. The shelves were obviously made for short dwarves, but clearly not for even shorter hobbits.

Huffing almost silently, Bilbo shoved it into what he hoped was the right place- only to have Thorin come up rather rudely behind him, take the book, and place it in a different spot. Bilbo jumped at first, startled by the sudden presence, but resorted to glaring at the dwarf.

"I can do that on my own." Bilbo muttered.

"I'm sure you can, but I am just moving it along faster." Thorin replied, and Bilbo noticed he was holding a few others books.

"Why, is there someplace I need to be?" He asked, grabbing a few maps and putting them in their respectable spots.

"Well the healers wanted to take a look at you, besides the fact that it is almost curfew and you've spent all day- save for lunch- holed up in here. It's nearly dusk." The king said rather sheepishly, and Bilbo wondered just what in the world he had been doing for the past five or six hours.

"I still don't like this whole curfew thing." Bilbo muttered, putting the last scroll away and following Thorin out the doors. "What were you even doing while you were gone? When you sent me back to the library I thought you would only be gone a few moments, not multiple hours!"

"Did the little hobbit miss me?" Thorin asked teasingly, and Bilbo felt his ears redden.

"N-no, but I like company." He muttered, then turned to face the matter at hand. "So what was it that you were doing?"

Thorin's face went from cheery to stony in a matter of seconds, and Bilbo wondered if there was a point in even asking anymore. The king seemed content on keeping everyone and everything in the dark.

"Kili was having issues that I was to take care of. He is fine now." Thorin said blandly, and the hobbit gave him a stare.

"He looked rather pale at lunch, is he ill?" He asked curiously, hoping that the prince was well.

"In a sense, he just misses his brother- which is understandable considering their closeness." Thorin was deliberately not looking at Bilbo, and the hobbit knew it.

"Oh... I see." He said quietly, and Thorin pushed open the doors to his recovery room.

"I'll go get the healers, please stay here." The king said, stressing the word _stay _as if Bilbo was a disobedient dog. The hobbit shrugged, his throat feeling unnaturally dry as he went to go get something to soothe the ache.

Humming, he filled up the same glass as earlier with water, quickly drinking it with a satisfying 'Ahhh' sound. Having really nothing to do, he refilled his drink and went to the writing desk, sitting in the chair and waiting patiently for the king to return.

Soon enough, he was tilting his chin upwards for two healers. Their names were Elorin and Dolka, or Doll for short. Apparently he earned the name by learning anatomy from dolls as a child, or something of the sort. Bilbo wasn't really listening as pain laced up and down his throat. The healers paid no mind to his discomfort, saying it was normal and would pass in a few days or one week. Doll seemed to be Elorin's mentor, and continued to shoot both happy and disappointed looks at the apprentice whenever he did something correctly or completely blundered.

"It looks a bit red, perhaps we should put a salve on it." The apprentice said, reaching for his bag and pulling out what looked to be a small vial of skin-colored liquid. Doll gave him a look, and Elorin visibly shrank inside of himself.

"T-this is a cream for healing the wound a bit faster and preventing a scar... it has Vitamin E in it. It will sting when I put it on so you might want to hold something." Bilbo stifled a chuckle, not a lot of things hurt him anym-

_Oh my word that burns like the fire of Smaug._

He gripped tightly on the armrest, struggling to keep his chin up as the ointment was slowly smeared vertically down his throat.

"Would you like a bandage to cover it?" Elorin asked with a sympathetic smile. "Stitches tend to itch after the first day or two, but it is not advisable to scratch- you will be opening up a chance for infection to settle in."

"Please." Bilbo struggled not to gasp the word, and felt relief as the pain slowly ebbed away. His throat began to tingle, almost like the feeling of mint leaf juice, it was refreshing and yet stung at the same time. Gauze was slowly wrapped around his neck, flexible yet restricting him.

"Everything looks like it's in the right order, I suggest you still drink lots of water, the stitches inside of you will disintegrate over a few weeks, but sometimes they get stuck and cause coughing. We don't want you to re-open the wound in there." Doll said with a polite tone of voice, though he was clearly ready to leave.

"Thank you!" Bilbo called as they left, giving an uncomfortable glance at Thorin. The hobbit had no idea why the king had stuck around, but guessed that he probably had nothing better to do.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, not meeting each others eyes and Bilbo wondered why he stayed.

"Does it hurt?" Thorin suddenly asked, and Bilbo hummed in thought.

"Not as much as it did a minute ago." The hobbit admitted, hesitated. "I really kind of forgot about it until you brought the healers up. They mentioned something about disintegrating stitches... so... where are those at? Inside of me?"

"They didn't tell you?" Thorin asked with a look of surprise. "They are inside your throat, where the infection first started at. They used the smallest type of thread they could find that diminished over time, so you shouldn't really feel anything in there."

Bilbo shook his head, and sipped at the water that had warmed to room temperature. He frowned, but still drank it.

"So what plant was it that I got this fever from?" He asked casually, as if discussing the weather.

"All three of your mint plants had the sickness, from what I've heard." Thorin replied with a calm voice, Bilbo almost choked on his water.

"A-all three?"

The king nodded. "Can I ask where you picked those plants at?"

"Um... rather close to the plateau that lies just North of here..." Bilbo admitted, and Thorin gave him a strange look. "I um... got them when you banished me..." He murmured, avoiding his eyes.

"I see." Thorin said, and Bilbo looked back up at him.

"You'll really have to burn everything, wont you?" He asked, and Thorin gave a short nod. Bilbo didn't have any idea what he should say, or any idea of what he should do. Honestly, he never did picture himself getting sick, or staying in Erebor, or going on an adventure.

The silence was deafening.

"I am sorry for what I did." Thorin suddenly said. "I can apologize all I want, but I really do feel remorse for my actions and... I don't think you would have picked up the plants if I hadn't banished you."

Was that a blush creeping up Thorin's neck?

"It's fine, Thorin. I forgave you long ago," _No you didn't, why lie to a king?_ "besides, if you hadn't banished me then you would be dead- don't even try to deny it!" He said fiercely when Thorin opened his mouth. "Smaug would have killed you first instead of trying to find me." Bilbo was pulled into the memory, still all-too clear for him, still scarring.

_"Where are you, hobbit...?" The deep voice rumbled into the air. "I can feel your presence, I can hear your heart beat, and I can smell your terrified scent. I know you are in the woods, there is no need to hide from me, I will find you- even if it means burning down the whole forest."_

_There was a pause, then the dragon's dying screams filled the air. His breath spitting up spurts of fire and gold. Blood shedding like acid from his one weakness. The salty smell of it brought Bilbo out of hiding, a huge arrow was implanted in the dragon's breast, and the dragon did not look to be rising from his eternal grave._

_"Impossible..." His voice hissed as Bilbo slid the ring up and approached the snout of the beast. He lay his hand on the tip of his maw, and couldn't help but to feel a bit saddened by the great being's death. _

_"Erebor has been reclaimed, and you have been lain to rest for eternity... isn't that all you've ever wanted? A good nap?"_

_Someone has walked up behind him, taking his neck and yanking him backwards just as Smaug blew one last strand of flames- burning the long layer of grass in front of Bilbo. He turned around to look at who it was that saved him, and caught his breath when he met two steely blue eyes._

_"Thank you." Was all he said, and Bilbo couldn't help but reply as something else came to him._

_"It's not over yet, the orcs are coming, and they won't be pleased." He muttered, and Thorin let go of Bilbo's collar._

_"It will at least be a day before they come, according to Gandalf." The king said. There wasn't greed in his eyes, not even a speck of it. No, they were empty and hollow save for the burning pain that lay just beyond his pupils. Bilbo had no doubt that they would win against the orcs. Their numbers would already be waned by the elves of Mirkwood, and Mirkwood itself would be a challenge for anyone (even an elf or orc) to get through._

_He had been all too right, the number of orcs and wargs was pitiful, and every dwarf was encouraged by the slaying of Smaug._

_They took the ranks down like nothing, even Ori beheading an orc or two in the blind rage of battle and swinging limbs. There were no high spirits after the battle- as everyone but Bilbo seemed to be reliving the past battle in their minds. Grief had blinded each dwarf for a long time, and it was only now that they showed it, open sobbing, terrified whispers in the dark, and most dwarves slept close to their remaining kin that night._

_Except for Thorin, he slept alone, his back turned to his people and his mind in the darkness of greed once more. It took Dwalin's strong fist and a few thwats of Gandalf's staff to snap him back out of it. The Arkenstone was then abandoned in the mounds of gold- now people detested it like a bad disease. Just as they always should have._

"What time is it?" Bilbo asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Awhile past dusk, I'm assuming. Hopefully Elorin and Doll get to their chambers without any trouble. Doll is old enough, Elorin is not." Bilbo decided not to ask any further questions, instead leaning backwards and closing his eyes to rest.

* * *

**Sorry for any errors that I didn't catch, I usually work on these early morning or late at night. I would like to describe Elorin and Doll to you.**

**Elorin is a short dwarf with a beard not unlike Ori's, he has blond hair with a small nose and beady eyes. His robes are his most prominent feature- ranging from bright blue to dull yellow, he is known as the 'budding flower' in the healers circle. Elorin is about 4'6, has short head hair that is fully beaded in an intricate basket weave, and has dark brown eyes. He is 62 years old.**

**Dolka ('Doll') is a little taller than Elorin, being 4'9 and has an all-out beard that he displays with great cheer. It has two beads in the middle connected with a small amulet that he got from his father before Erebor fell. Doll got his nickname from his older sisters, who taught him anatomy through dolls that they had collected. He makes a living off of amputation and corpse preparation, and excels in vital surgery in the brain, throat, and stomach area. He has a man of hair that is tied in a knot just beyond his shoulder blades, and has hazel eyes. He is 104 years old.**

**Neither of these two are personal OCs, just characters I made up to help the plot a little. **

**If you have any questions about BoFA please go ahead and ask- I am currently reading the book and I changed it completely, I know. PM or review, it doesn't matter, I can reply either way.**


	7. Undiscovered

Four days later, Fili found himself in front of Erebor.

He really had no idea how much Kili had missed him until he saw his brother for himself. The younger dwarf looked haggard, though he held a smile as Fili embraced him. His body was taut and stiff, and Fili grimaced when he realized what had happened.

"I assume Uncle knows about this?" He muttered into his brother's neck, and relaxed a bit when the lad nodded. "Did you get my letter?" Another nod, and a renewed face rose up to meet his.

"It's boring here without you, the only thing exciting that happened was Master Boggins getting Blight Fever!"

Fili gaped at his brother, not bothering to correct him.

"Is the hobbit alright? How did this happen?" He demanded with a quiet urgency. Kili shrugged, and Fili suddenly found himself pulled away from his brother and into the arms of Balin.

"C'mere lad, Kili isn't the only one who missed you!" The elder chuckled as Fili gave a grunt and returned the hug. "Speaking of missing someone, you may want to visit your uncle- he needs a smile after these last few days. The representatives of other clans have been pestering him to no end, and he has been spending too much time with the hobbit than is really necessary. He's desperate for a little laugh!"

"So desperate to go to the hobbit, eh?" Fili said with a smile, and flinching inwardly. It was no secret of what happened between Thorin and Bilbo, and Fili was not sure if he would have forgiven Thorin as easily as Bilbo had. Then again, if Bilbo really had Blight Fever, the hobbit would be bedridden, and Fili knew from experience that Thorin liked to hover whenever someone he trusted was injured.

Excusing himself, Fili went to go find his uncle. He still had to give the king the key that held so much importance.

He asked around, getting a few directions from Gloin and Bombur before making his way to the healing quarters.

He caught a healer by the shoulder as the young dwarf almost passed him, asking curiously about Bilbo. What room he was in, his health, about the surgery. The dwarf was clothed in colorful patterns and had vials clinking from his belt. Fili recognized him as Elorin- having met him a few times before.

The dwarf gave him hesitant answers, narrowing down everything he could to the shortest answer possible, and then leaving him on hurried steps. Fili didn't know if he should be offended by that, or if he even wanted to acknowledge that he had just been fled from. Sighing and rubbing his head, he made his way to the third recovery room, knocking at the door loudly when he heard soft voices from inside.

The voices cut off, and a small 'Come in' came from the inside.

Not bothering to waste time, Fili pushed in and made his way down the short hall, entering the bedroom. There was another hallway- it probably lead to the kitchen or privy- and a few chairs scattered about. Fili felt himself lock up a bit when he saw Bilbo.

The hobbit was nestled comfortably into the covers, his face a bit pale and his lips blue-tinted... that usually meant said person was not getting enough oxygen. Fili looked slowly around the room until his eyes met Thorin's, and he gave a smile.

"I'm back." Fili proclaimed in a soft voice. "And I would like to hear a good explanation as to why our hobbit was so close to death."

After everything was explained to him, Fili couldn't help but reach up to tug at the key around his neck. He didn't know if he should give it to Thorin yet or not, and if Bilbo knew of why he had it. His uncle was not exactly the best at explaining private matters- even if they would eventually come back to him, or Erebor, or something he loved dearly.

Fili sighed, rubbing his head again as he walked around the room to settle down in a chair. He couldn't really manage to control his thoughts, and he just wanted to sit down, have a nice cup of ale, and rest in the warm comforts of his bed.

His uncle's eyes narrowed when Fili reached for his neck, and Fili took that as a sign not to give it to him. There was not much that he could do about that, and distracted himself with idle talk for about an hour before getting up to excuse himself.

"Fili," Thorin said calmly, as if it didn't matter. "have you seen Kili yet?"

The king smiled when Fili nodded, and the happy nephew gave one back before ducking out the door with little haste.

* * *

_I swear, this hobbit will be the death of me. _Thorin thought as he watched Bilbo shift in his bed. Thorin got up, placing a hand on the hobbit's brow and frowning. "You are very warm."

He made the remark casually, getting a feverfew herb from his pocket (he kept them there for when he got a headache during a meeting) and giving it to Bilbo. The hobbit made a face, but took the leaves and chewed them until nothing but a green goop was left- which he spat into his palm and reached to wipe it off with a 'kerchief.

"You really don't need to give me all that." Bilbo muttered while discarding the 'kerchief, and Thorin rose an eyebrow, wondering just what 'that' was.

"Hovering is not really kingly, if I do recall."

This left Thorin silent for a few minutes, chuckling under his breath and giving a fond smile to Bilbo- and the hobbit returned it.

Well.

Looking down, Thorin kept his hands busy, just to do something. He was used to staying with someone for a long time- he would stay with Fili and Kili when they got sick, and this was no different than that.

This couldn't be any different than that.

"When do you think I will be fully healed?" The hobbit asked, and Thorin looked up, his shoulders hunching up in a shrug.

"I don't know, hopefully soon. I guess you should ask Doll, he seems to know a lot about throat wounds." Thorin said quickly, "That healer is one that I would trust with my life- did you know that he once saved my brother, Frerin, from dying of blood loss?" he almost flinched at his own words, the words rolled off of his tongue as soon as he let his guard down, and now sadness seemed to swell in his chest.

"No, and I didn't know you had a brother... tell me more?" Thorin didn't have to look at the hobbit to know that he was thoroughly interested. His eyes darted across the room, and Thorin didn't know where to start.

"My brother and I had just gotten out of battle training- all princes must take it -and had gone outside the walls of Erebor to pick our mother some flowers. My brother was quite a suck-up if you are wondering, and he just loved pleasing mother- but that didn't make him any less brave or strong. We had just picked some daisies near the river when I tripped on a rock- skinning my knee and palms. Frerin helped me up and slipped, and I tried to grab his arm before he fell into the river. Although I saved him from getting soaked with frigid water, he got a long cut across his stomach and it was bleeding heavily.

"I cried out for someone to help, but no one was around... So I thought. There came Doll, the same dwarf that I had talked bad about in earlier life, and he didn't even seem to be bothered by me. He just did his job and fixed Frerin right up. When I asked him why he just said that it was his job to take care of the heirs of Erebor, even if it meant bearing a snide nickname and whispered jokes behind his back. He was loyal, even back then. I know his reasons not to join the company were justified, but I do wish we could properly pay him back." Thorin hesitated.

"I will assume that your mother or father thrashed you after that for what you did." Bilbo said with a sniff. "It's terribly rude to go talking about someone you do not even know."

"Ever the charming one, I see. Even in illness you continue to amaze me, hobbit." Thorin said with a chuckle, and rolled his eyes at Bilbo. "We were punished, and Doll was repaid with one hundred and fifty skrilla each week. He was soon one of the most widely known young medics. Bullies even stopped their harassment when they heard what he did for us, for Erebor..." He paused, giving a sly grin. "... Besides the fact that he told anyone who picked on him that he would poison their next meal with yew seeds and holly berries the next time they even tried to taunt him."

"I assume that is why he is so hard on his apprentice?" Thorin nodded.

"Doll was teased for a matter of years before we gave him recognition, and that made a huge impact on his moral and spirit. I would hate to see such a young and bright lad like Elorin turn out to have just a problematic apprenticeship. He chose right when he chose his mentor."

Bilbo's expression turned to surprise, and Thorin raised an eyebrow at the hobbit.

"The apprentice chooses his own mentor?" He asked in surprise, and Thorin nodded.

"Only for healers though, I do not know why it is like this, but it has gone back for many generations." Thorin smiled a bit, thinking of how his brother and Doll got along so well. Thorin had been quite jealous for awhile before he realized the dwarf's intentions were more prioritized on learning rather than playing. He had Frerin back after a week, and it hadn't been long after that when his father announced that Frerin was to be betrothed. Envy just wouldn't leave him alone.

Shaking his head, Thorin bit his lip. Some of his memories were rather strange, but it was not as if they were all unhappy. No, many had sunny skies and warm hearths. Each had it's own tale.

Getting to his feet, Thorin struggled to hold back a few tears. He missed his family so much, but he knew they were in a happy place now.

"I- um. Please excuse me." He managed to choke out before exiting into the kitchen. Sighing heavily, he looked out of the window and tried to see the home that he once had. Granted, it had been blinded by greed, but there was still love deep inside for it. In some ways he was glad it had happened, but guilt always immediately followed. He would have never met half the dwarves and the one hobbit if he had not taken the stride to his kingdom. To his lost home.

A tear trailed down his face, soaking into his beard. There was no more sadness now, only emptiness. A cavern that gaped deep inside of him like the split area of an earthquake.

"Thorin? Are you alright?" Bilbo's voice called softly from behind him. He turned around and nodded, wandering past the hobbit and to the door that lead back into Erebor.

"Let's get some lunch. It's been awhile and the others are wondering when you'll come out of hiding." He said mirthlessly, as humor was not really working for him right now.

So they traveled silently to the dining room, Bilbo slipping inside without so much as a glance towards Thorin- the king began to wonder if he had offended him again. The last four days had been hectic; preparing for Fili's return, having to pay for even more reconstruction (done inside, no one was insane enough to build outside of Erebor during fall and winter), and even having to speak to bloody elves about trades. Bilbo hadn't been pleased when Thorin returned with those excuses, he tutted and gave a small scowl, but he was still in the same condition.

"Bilbo! Thorin!" Voices called out from inside, and Thorin made his entrance with a polite smile to his nephews.

There had been a time when Thorin would have sat as far away from Bilbo as possible, but times had changed since then and now the hobbit was the only thing for Thorin to seek company with. Perhaps for comic relief, perhaps because of the fact that Bilbo reminded Thorin of his brother. He was full of smiles and witty remarks- just as Frerin used to be.

Still, he couldn't be bothers to talk to or even look at the company as he quieted the grumbling in his stomach. He could hear their chatting in the background- hearty welcomes to Bilbo, and joyous cheers for Fili. Many did not know why he had gone, in fact, most assumed it was to get educated in politics and allied clans.

What Fili had actually been sent out for was the key to the Crypt of Silence. The Crypt of Silence was an item that contained many things inside of it. Some tales told that the crypt held translations to the ancient dwarven language and that anyone who opens it would be gifted with the knowledge of pronunciation and the gift of tongue.

As he finished his meal, Thorin turned to Dwalin in high spirits- his friend had been garnished in knitted items and he looked happy enough to start doing a jig. He had Ori must have started courting, by the looks of things.

Thorin was happy for his friend, chatting with him with an airy head just released some building tension in the king. Besides, it was refreshing to hear how well Dwalin and Ori had been making it off. Thorin couldn't be more happy for his friend.

Slowly, his eyes slid across the table to look at Bilbo. The hobbit was eating happily, Bofur was chatting expressively with him, Fili and Kili listening in as well, and even Gloin seemed to take some interest. Thorin felt a brief flicker of confusion, but passed it off as the miner telling one of his ridiculous stories again. Bofur really did have an imagination, he just never had striven to catch it as Ori had.

Suddenly, Bilbo went red in the cheeks and Bofur gave a sly grin towards Thorin. The king could only imagine what the miner had told the poor hobbit, hopefully nothing too upsetting. Turning back to Dwalin, he listened on to the dilemma that he seemed to have.

"I can't think of something to give to the lad, I'm a warrior- I don't really craft things." Thorin nodded slowly.

"Have you forgotten that you can pledge your heart for his protection?" The king asked slowly, not really happy with the thought, but it was really all that the warrior could give without looking shabby next to Ori's bundles of knitting.

"That would require me to be away from you most of the day, until dismissed. I cannot do that!" Thorin knew this, but he also knew that the relationship Dwalin and Ori would not continue as peacefully if Dwalin did not present something soon. Ori could be quite the fighter when he pleased.

"What else can you give him?" Thorin asked challengingly, leaning forward. "I do not have the right to hold you away from those you love, I may not like it but what else can be done?"

"I can't believe you, King Under the Mountain, are telling me to leave your force for someone who is in no danger." Dwalin growled back, turning his face away. "There are things that I can do for him, but I am no good at them."

"It's the thought that counts." Thorin pointed out. That was something his mother used to say a lot, mostly when Frerin would bring in poorly made meals for him and father.

Sudden laughter erupted from his right side, and Thorin looked over to see Bilbo, Bofur, Fili, and Kili all doubled over; their faces were red and they all gasped for air as they laughed. Kili and Fili were still snickering when Bilbo started speaking again, his cheeks tinged pink and his eyes bright.

"I wonder what's so funny." Dwalin muttered, and Thorin turned back to him, grinning.

"Bilbo can make anyone laugh without trying, whether you understand the joke or not." Dwalin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, picking up at his food.

"You've grown very fond of the hobbit," He remarked casually, _too _casually.

"Well, I've only spent about four days with no one but him and the occasional healer." He replied. "I am beginning to regret kicking out you and Ori, but I have a feeling that Radagast and Bifur haven't really been up to the best things since the very beginning."

The two happened to walk in just as he said that- neither heard him, as Thorin had kept his voice low, but they seemed a bit somber. Neither would look at the other, and they sat at opposite ends of the table. Radagast with Oin, Dori, Nori, and Balin; and Bifur with Bofur, Bombur, Gloin, Bilbo, Kili, and Fili.

On his right sat Fili, Kili, Bofur, Bilbo, Bifur, and Bombur. Fili being the first and Bombur being the last.

On his left sat Dwalin, Oin, Radagast, Nori, Balin, Dori, Balin, and Ori standing at the end, listening to them while scribbling in the notebook he always had with him.

* * *

Bilbo did not really want to sit next to Bofur, but found himself ogling at the stories that the miner told with such a strong voice and happy smiles. Then he said something strange.

"-and then Thorin grabbed Bilbo and looked deep into his eyes with a dying gasp. There was a moment of silence, until Thorin finally croaked out the words 'I love you...' falling backwards onto the cot he lay bleeding it. I darted in, saving Thorin like the hero I am-"

Bilbo could feel blood rush to his cheeks, staring wide-eyed at Bofur- so was everyone else. He stopped his story, smirking evilly.

"What? That _would_ happen. We've all seen how Thorin looks at you!" A small murmur rose up from the crowd, and everyone burst out laughing. They were all nodding and looking at Thorin from the corners of their eyes. _Oh Yule I hope he heard nothing. _

Silence again, until Bofur continued excitedly, the miner kept giving devious smiles to Thorin. Something was up, and Bilbo had to mentally deny himself that Thorin really would think of him like that. It simply wasn't proper- a king with a hobbit. Psh.

Bilbo finished his food, only partly paying attention until Bofur poked him with his fork.

"Got any stories?"

"None that you'll take interest in." He said quickly, too quickly. Bofur grinned evilly, patting his shoulder.

"Go ahead lad, you got the floor!"

So Bilbo just ranted off the old tales that his mother would tell him- specifically not telling stories that involved elves. By the time he was done, he was smiling ear-to-ear and the others had to be snapped out of the daze they had fallen into.

"Whoa, you could write a book with words like that!" Fili said, and Kili was nodding in assent.

"I- well, it was really my mother's stories, I just enhanced them." Bilbo said quietly, ear-tips burning.

"I can see why Thorin sticks around you, you've got a way with words Master Boggings!" Kili said cheerfully, his eyes more light-filled than they had been in weeks.

"Nah, Thorin sticks around to stare at his eyes-"

"Or his curly hair-"

"Don't forget his pale skin-!"

"Shhh! Thorin's coming!"

"That's not the only thing he's doing, look at his eyes!"

"Shh!"

The dwarves quieted as Thorin eyed them suspiciously, Bilbo felt utterly bewildered by all of this stuff coming from them. There was a very, _very_, small chance that Thorin liked him. Honestly, Bilbo thought he annoyed the dwarf to no end.

"The healers have scheduled a checkup today, it's in half an hour. You may want to head back to the room." The king spoke softly, not looking at Bilbo but giving the other dwarves a stare. "Doll said he wants to give you a new kind of solution that wont burn as much."

The others snickered softly, and even Bilbo could see the perverted way that someone could take that. His ears burned even more, and he muttered a small 'okay' before ducking his head and making a quick escape from the room. The dwarves that sat on the opposite side of the table gave him weird looks, but he ignored them.

He made his way down the hallways, he had learned them all by now and was just beginning to feel comfortable walking alone. No one bothered him, they all knew who Bilbo was- even though it made him a bit uncomfortable to not know them -and he enjoyed peaceful walks. He didn't realize that Thorin was behind him until the dwarf commented on how nice the place was coming together.

"Yes, it looks much better now that most of the rubble is gone." Bilbo quickly agreed, a bit breathless. The dwarf had scared him!

"Let's hope the skeleton will hold, Smaug wasn't exactly gentle when he paraded through these corridors. I don't fancy the thought of rebuilding this whole thing _again_. The architect really was a good one, best in the business at the time. When I was a lad I heard that he found out a way to make wooden planks bend into any shape he wished." The king said with a wistful look in his eye. Bilbo did his best not to stare, opening the door to his recovery room and silently awaiting Doll and Elorin.


	8. Liar Liar Pants on Ice

Thorin left as soon as the healers came, excusing himself- as he had business to attend to. Very important business.

The others were exiting the dining hall as he came forth, and he grabbed Fili by his arm.

"You have the key?" Thorin asked softly, and the young one nodded, lifting it from his tunic and pushing it into Thorin's awaiting hands. Thorin beckoned his young kin and started down the hall, entering a dark corridor.

He approached the crypt on quiet steps, each small thump of his feet on the ground made his heart thud all the faster. It was the eerie silence that got to him though- it was the Crypt of Silence after all, and it lived up to it's name well.

Fili and Kili were flanking him, falling just short of a yard away. He could hear them talking quietly and found himself wishing them to be silent. A stern glance their way had them quieted within seconds. An soon arch loomed over him- gateway to the crypt, a sealer to protect it from those who were not of his race.

They passed through with ease, each corridor being passed without so much as an arrow flying. His cape-like coat flared out behind him as he quickened his pace. Since when had this hallway been so long?

Finally, they approached the door. It wasn't a grand sight- the door was made of crumbling stone that looked like it could turn to dust at the slightest touch. Thorin knew better, taking in the runes on the door and uttering a small praise. It was a puzzle of sorts, devised to confuse anyone who came through and plotted to look like the wrong door.

If the king hadn't seen this place before, he would have ignored it and searched on, but that would not be so. His father had burned the directions to the door into his skull as a child. Thorin had done similarly with Fili and Kili- perhaps in a less overbearing way than his father had.

He held his hand up, brushing the dust from the stone with a wistful glint in his eye. Silence dominated around him, he couldn't even hear his nephews. Something like that did not happen often, and Thorin had to glance behind him a few times to make sure they hadn't prowled off, they had a bad habit of doing things of the like.

They were still there, staring solemnly at the door with dark gazes. Thorin could see the twitching movements of Fili's hand, even in the dimness of the unlit hall. Kili was responding. Whatever sign language it was, Thorin was glad for it's silence.

Using one hand, the king pressed the left stone button, his movements slow and hesitant as he did each task carefully. Left, top, left, bottom. The right button was a trap- a botton with a ruby barely shining just below the surface of the stone. Thorin had learned the hard way what pressing that button would lead to- a bundle of smoke-poison tipped needles injected straight into his arm, leaving him paralyzed until healed later by Doll.

The door creaked a little, shattering the silence briefly until Thorin tugged lightly at the middle knob on the five-knobbed door. Another creak, much louder as the door swung away from the wall- leading into a brightly lit room.

"Eternal fire..." Thorin murmured, as it was the only such a fire would be able to stay lit. Eternal fire was a cold yellow flame that burned until desired to be turned out, made by enchanted forges and giving off the smoke poison if raised into the correct temperature.

He stepped into the room, the black crypt lay in the midst of the room that was piled high with rubble and old parchment. Inside of it would lay the body of an age-old scribe, thought to be the last to speak all lost languages.

What was his name?

Thorin had quite forgotten, as he approached the coffin-like chest. He glanced upon the thing, reading silently.

_Here lies Yuroan,_

_Scribe to the Ivory Shield,_

_Master of Tongue,_

Scribe to the Ivory Shield? What or who was the Ivory Shield? Thorin raised an eyebrow, laying the key easily against the hole and pressing it in slowly. He could hear Fili and Kili again, not talking, but shuffling around and observing the surroundings with wary eyes.

Lifting the lid quietly, he was surprised to see that Yuroan was put into another box, but pockets with scrolls and treasures were surrounding him. There was a note over his actual coffin.

_To whomever is able to open this crypt and have enough decency to read this,_

_Congratulations of sorts, there are some treasures worth a war in this crypt. I must presume that you thought that there would be the Old Tongue in here, did you not? Whoever spread that rumor was of a nasty sort, but what kind of kingdom doesn't have a nasty group? There is no Old Tongue, it is all lost long ago- mixed with all of the languages in the races. All of them._

_What is in here though... it could either curse, madden, and destroy you, or it could save, simplify, and help you. Some of these items are to never be worn or read. Continue any pillaging with caution, as you are taking from the treasures of a great scribe who had a few tricks up his sleeve._

_He always did love his silence._

_Courtesy to you and yours,_

___Xiroan_

With a grave face, Thorin closed the crypt and turned to look at Fili and Kili, holding out the note.

"We will leave this place, if it is silence that this scribe wants, then it is silence that this scribe gets." He muttered, going to the door and beckoning his nephews. Hesitating a bit, he turned to the nearest fire...

and extinguished it, plunging everything into darkness. The faint light of the door was the only thing leading them out.

"Fili." Thorin snapped as his nephew lingered, and the dwarf quickly came to his side. "We will leave the dead to their rest, I now realize we have no business disturbing them."

"So the journey was for nothing?" The lad asked, eyebrows raising.

"Not for nothing, I'm sure you have learned something from all of this- I certainly don't want to be caught in a clever scribe's trap and put my nephews in danger."

His nephew fell silent at that, and Thorin was thankful.

* * *

Bilbo let the hands travel up his throat, used to the feathery touches and swallowing heavily when a salve was pushed over the stitches.

"You know, I've never seen his Majesty so caught up with someone- other than his brother, of course." Doll remarked suddenly, so suddenly that Bilbo accidentally flinched and knocked down a vial. Doll picked it up before anything could ooze out.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The dwarf working on him snorted at Bilbo's words, and Elorin gave a tentative smile.

"I'm not quite sure his Majesty knows either, to be honest." The young dwarf piped shyly, and Doll gave him a small (but approving) look. A blush crept over Bilbo's cheeks, and he averted his eyes.

"It's not a proper thing though," Bilbo protested, trying not to move too much. "hobbits are nothing like dwarves- not to mention we are both- you know -_male_." Elorin immediately opened his mouth, but Doll sent him glare that would make cheese curdle.

"I don't know if it has occurred to you, Bilbo," Doll started smoothly, his face stony. "but just how many dwarven women have you seen? _Not counting_-" He sharply stated. "-lady Dis."

"Uh..."

"And you have surely seen Ori and Dwalin- the two are practically attached at the hip!" Doll snickered at Elorin's words.

"I think you misunderstand. I know of dwarf customs... but hobbits are much different! It's not really proper for a male hobbit to be with another male hobbit- you see, we have the head of our families- the two parents you could say. They make many children for their family and then things go from there."

"But male hobbits can have children." Elorin protested, raising his voice slightly, and Bilbo stared with wide eyes.

"W-what, how did you-?"

"Elorin you sneaky dwarf you!" Doll chastised playfully, and Elorin blushed.

"I um... took a sample of your blood to get an idea of how different you are from dwarves... and um... well, your chromosomes have both those of a man and a woman, given that it is more lined up with man rather than woman... Are all hobbits like this?" Bilbo slightly flushed, averting his eyes again.

"My bloodline can- but it hasn't happened in so long that we thought it had just gone away!"

"We?"

"My family and I..." Bilbo wanted to slip his ring on and disappear. The golden thing felt heavy in his pocket, and he circled one finger over it. "As I said, it has not happened in a long, long, _long_ time."

"Apparently not long enough." Doll said with a small smile. Bilbo looked at his hands.

"When my great-great-great grandpa got pregnant, he was shunned by the shire..." He said softly, though strength was behind his words. "He stayed though, and then things went back to normal, for a bit at least."

The two dwarves chuckled softly.

"You have no need to fear, Bilbo. We are only teasing- even though Thorin _is_ fond of you- and there is no harm in any of this. Besides-" He waved a hand in the air with a roll of his eyes. "-if you do end up with any dwarf, you will probably stay here, unless said dwarf wishes to stay in your home."

Bilbo visibly paled at Doll's words, and the dwarf gave him a worried glance.

"Are you okay lad? You don't look so good." Numbly nodding, Bilbo forced a smile.

"I suppose the thought of living here shocked me a bit. Company is always welcome at my house though!"

It wasn't long after the words left him that there was a knock at the door. Getting to his feel, Doll opened it with a small smile. Gandalf stepped in, his old face looking a bit more creased than normal.

"Hello, Bilbo." He said with a cheery smile, dipping his head slightly.

"Hello!" Bilbo greeted happily, giving a small cough. "I haven't seen you for a bit, where have you been at?"

"Just exploring Erebor, the people here are very kind." He said speedily, still smiling. "How are you?"

"I suppose I'm doing much better, according to both Doll and Elorin." He glanced quickly at the healers, who were chatting in small voices. The wizard nodded slowly, eyes twinkling.

"Have you any idea where Radagast has gone off to? I saw him with Bifur earlier, but lost sight after I looked away for a moment." He asked, and Bilbo shrugged, looking at the door. His stomach gave a small pang at the movement, probably because he ate so much.

"He might be in the dining hall still, or maybe at the library." He guessed, stifling a yawn. "I suspect that they are with a few of the others, maybe Bofur and Bombur."

Gandalf sat down in a chair and leaned back a little, looking at Bilbo with what looked like pride.

"I assume Fili returned today?" When Bilbo nodded he continued. "I must have missed it, my sense of time is getting a bit less sharp."

"Be glad it did not fade when you were young," Bilbo bantered with a cheeky grin. "that would've caused some real trouble!"

"Indeed." He nodded, and Bilbo yawned.

"You seem a bit tired, is something ailing you?" Gandalf asked, and Bilbo shifted in his seat, his stitches suddenly gave a throb.

"Ah- no, I don't think so. I think I'm just used to sleeping is all." He replied with a small smile, lazily rolling his shoulders. "Have you seen the royal library? It's enormous!"

The wizard's eyes widened a bit, "You've seen the royal library? That's reserved for a select few, I'm impressed. Thorin must hold you in high regard!"

"I'm pretty sure that's been established too many times already," Bilbo commented dryly. "why is everyone so excited with Thorin treating me nicely? Sure it's a change, but maybe he does have _some_ manners."

"A king treating a guest specifically is not unheard of, but not common. You should be honored, Master Baggins! I'm surprised though, after everything he managed to put on you, you still forgave him..." He paused for a moment, eyebrows creasing. "May I ask why?"

"I- ah... Well... His anger is justified. I know that if the Shire was taken over that I would do everything in _my_ power to save it, and he was doing just that for Erebor. He just wanted his home back, and I got in the way of that until he was consumed by the greed that came with his home. When I saw him being taken with the greed, I had to do something, and I think he understood that- no matter how angry he was with me, I could see the real Thorin was still there. I don't care about what he did, I only care about him leading with an un-corrupt mind."

_Liar, liar, liar. _His mind chanted. _You haven't forgiven at all, you hate him like he hates the elves. _The ring joined in, its silvery voice hissing softly and reverberating against his skull. _Why lie to a wizard, you know he'll find out eventually. You care too much about proper decency to admit it to yourself. Anger is rising up, Bilbo._

He wanted to fling the stupid ring away, but kept it clenched in his fist stuffed into his pocket with a grimace.

"I see, how considerate of you..." Gandalf said softly. Bilbo felt a rush of relief, followed by a gut-wrenching pang of guilt. No, that wasn't guilt. Bilbo hunched forward, moaning as the sudden stomach-ache threatened to raise bile from his throat. The two healers were at his side instantly, Doll tilting his chin up and Elorin pressing his hand to Bilbo's temple.

"Bilbo? What's wrong with him?" A new voice chimed. It was Kili, followed by an upset looking Fili. They had walked in unnoticed, and Bilbo groaned again as his stomach gave a slow roll.

"He's got a fever, it's low but I think..." Elorin was cut off as Doll raised his voice.

"El! Go find Igreo, quickly! This isn't Blight Fever, but he is not recovered yet!" He snapped. "You two, go find me some cold water! You, wizard, get a bucket!"

Everyone bustled around Bilbo, and he hunched over again. The movements, even if they weren't his own, made him dizzy. A bucket was placed beside him, and Bilbo did what was expected- retched out everything he had consumed in the last 12 hours.

He retched again and again until he was simply gagging into the bucket- there was nothing left. The smell of acidic puke was overwhelming, and Bilbo could feel a headache coming soon. His eyes drooped as he rose from the chair to go towards the bed- but he ended up nearly on the floor. A strong hold caught him, and spots danced before his eyes. He groaned as the headache made its appearance.

"It's alright Master Boggins, we've got you." Kili said, and Bilbo realized that it was just one person, nor two, but _three _dwarves and a wizard keeping him upright. Kili, Fili, and Gandalf were holding him as if their lives depended on it.

Gandalf was muttering under his breath, and Fili stayed silent while they struggled to the bed. Bilbo was lain down quickly, covers being tucked around him. It was for naught though as Bilbo kept hunching up in an attempt to stop the rolling pains in his abdomen.

A cold cloth was placed over his head, and a hand was pressed onto his chest.

"Irregular heartbeat," Muttered Doll, "low fever, trouble breathing. His body isn't taking too nicely to recovery. I'll need to keep a closer eye on him, I had no idea that hobbits had a weak immune system."

There was silence, and Bilbo heard shuffling footsteps. Cracking his eyes open, he looked over to who looked to be the oldest dwarf he had ever seen. The dwarf was clad in dark red, and his wary movements contrasted sharply with his wide dilated blue eyes. The dwarf cleared it's throat, and shuffled closer to Bilbo- one leathery hand extended to rest over his chest.

"Heartbeat is evening out," Was the feminine voice, just barely enough for Bilbo to realize that he was a she. "have you given him some herbal tea? Mint and honey should clear out his throat, as well as soothe any turmoil in his stomach. My eyesight may not be what it once was, but his lips have a discoloration- high contrast to his skin tone, he needs to be getting more oxygen and not be out and about. How long has he been like this?"

"It started only half an hour ago, he complained of stomach ache and then retched everything into the bucket over there." Doll informed, and it was beginning to irritate Bilbo with how they all seemed to talk over him. "He was coughing a bit before then, but I assumed it was the stitches just getting a bit itchy. He otherwise has not complained of anything ailing him. Fatigue, that was it."

"That should have been your first warning," The elder suddenly snapped, her bright eyes now looking at Bilbo. "poor hobbit, I must admit that we don't have many records of your kind."

"I have a name," Bilbo croaked dryly. "Bilbo, call me Bilbo. What's wrong with me?"

"Now that's a question." The elder mused. "First you may want to know my name, yes? I'm Igreo, head of the healing council and adviser to any dwarf (or hobbit) going through any taxing illness. We don't know what is happening with you, but by the looks of it your immune system is working overtime. You've been moving around too much, you still need to stay in bed and relax. I take it you like books, yes?"

Bilbo nodded, but was frowning at the thought of staying still. He wasn't an animal, he couldn't just stay idle for as long as others pleased!

"You'll get rather restless, I presume... but if the rumors are true, I'm sure you'll have more than enough dwarves vying for your attention." Igreo went on with a smirk. "I haven't seen this kind of attention being given to a guest for a long long time, feel honored, Bilbo, it is not everyday that outsiders have the respect of a dwarven race."

Bilbo waved a hand, and shifted as his stomach rolled. "I'm merely one hobbit, no different from the next."

"Modest too, Gandalf must have a good eye for hero's." At the mention of the wizard, Bilbo turned a fond smile to him. Igreo nodded to the wizard, and Bilbo looked down at his hands. "Thorin too, must have a good eye. I see why he spends time with you."

"W-what?" Spluttered Bilbo, and the elder laughed, her eyes twinkling.

"I'm teasing, though I wouldn't be surprised if he asked you to stay another year. You are rather fun to speak with."

Bilbo blushed, ignoring his headache and the slow churning in his abdomen. "Thank you, I suppose. Really though, I'm just a simple hobbit, you can have much of the same conversation with any other that you meet."

"If that is what you believe, you are very wrong. You may not have been alive at the time, but I've been to multiple hobbit homes in my youth. Many shunned me and wagged their tongues when they thought I had not been paying attention. I believe you are different! Much different!"

At Igreo's words, Bilbo blushed a bit harder. He wasn't used to taking so many compliments, and this dwarf was more friendly than he had grown accustomed to. Most of the time it was a friendly hello and a wary chat with dwarves, none of this bantering and fond -well, kind of fond,- memories.

"Enough small talk, how are you feeling now that all of that food is out of you?" The dame said, her voice going from friendly to dead serious.

"A bit better, but my stomach is tossing like the sea. It has to be something I ate, because I've truly been fine the past few days." He insisted, folding his arms snugly to himself. "I have a headache too, though I haven't really been sleeping much since the drugs wore off." Igreo frowned at his words, and Bilbo couldn't help but think of Thorin when she did so. Oh dear, what would he think when he heard that Bilbo was sick again?

"You need to be getting as much rest as possible. You didn't just get surgery, Blight Fever has _fever_ in it for a reason. It is natural to be weak, but you aught to get as much sleep as you can, if you continue like this you wont recover before next Durin's Day, and I assume you plan to leave in the spring following? That will not happen if you keep using your strength like this."

Bilbo grimaced, he didn't know a lot about Blight Fever, and honestly, he often felt like he could run a mile after he woke up from a few hours of sleep- but if there was one thing that he hated, it was sitting still for over an hour. He could do it if he was reading, but there were only so many books that he could stay captivated in.

"There are many methods of recovery, but I personally believe that walking for about thirty or forty minutes every five hours or so could clear up your lungs and give you a bit of exercise. You don't have the required objects for anything else to speed it up, but I suggest you combine doing the walking and doing some other exercise. You will need to drink lots of water, and rest very often. Someone will have to be with you the whole time, in case something like this happens again. Alright?"

"I..." He felt a bit overwhelmed, but the old dwarf got up after patting his head. Her blue eyes sparkled a bit before she left- taking Doll and Elorin out with her. When the two healers returned, they both wore bright and genuine smiles.

"Elorin is being raised in rank," Doll started proudly, and Bilbo forced a smile. Elorin brushed his bright robes with a small blush. "Igreo said he has been a huge help with many things lately, and now his title is..."

"Elorin, the Budding Flower. At your service!" Elorin chimed softly, dipping his head. Gandalf, Kili, Fili, and Bilbo all congratulated the dwarf. They each exchanged words before parting- Gandalf lingered in the doorway last. He wore a creased smile, and nodded at Bilbo before closing the door, leaving the hobbit alone.

* * *

**Mercy, I had trouble with this chapter. Do not count on Igreo or Yuroan or Xiroan to be in any more chapters.**

**Despite troubles, this week is going to be a bit exciting for me! My birthday, so... yay? I'm not going to be a huge pushover about it, but that is one of the reasons the next chapter and this chapter are/were coming along slowly. This chapter was a bit boring, no? Don't worry, things are going to liven up a bit!**

**Damn it Bilbo, stop getting sick!**


	9. Climbing Trees and Orcs

**Elorin was known with a nickname of 'the budding flower' because of his clothes, looks, and study. That is a rank in the healing circle. Budding Flowers study illness like Blight Fever, Pneumonia, and other things that infect the respiratory system- this is not the only thing they do. Budding Flowers (there are a total of three members now) have the hardest field of study by far, having to diagnose any and all sickness that presents itself to them. It doesn't have to be on the spot, but they do need to have an idea of what they are brewing before returning back to the patient. Igreo is a Budding Flower, in branch of therapy and physical and mental healing.**

* * *

When Thorin burst through the door, Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what to do. He had expected a reaction from his friend, but not necessarily like _this_. That is- Thorin bursting through the door, immediately going to Bilbo and checking everything around him, not unlike a fussy mother. Honestly, if Bilbo didn't know better he would've thought that the king was worried.

"You should have sent someone for me," He started in a low voice, and Bilbo cut him off from whatever rant that was going to start.

"I had two healers and a wizard with me, Thorin. Anyone else and I would have been suffocating- besides, Igreo said it was because I'm been too active for my systems to handle." The king paused when Bilbo mentioned Igreo, his eyebrows raising.

"Igreo came? How odd, she doesn't surface much nowadays. Who did you send to her?" He didn't wait, instead answering his own question. "Elorin, he's the only one who speaks to her anyways..."

"_Anyways _it was nothing serious, so don't get your braids in a knot." Bilbo continued, yawning. It had been another restless night, and weariness was beginning to creep up on him already.

Thorin chuckled at his remark, and proceeded to check on Bilbo again; his calloused hands pressing to his temple to check for fever, one hand tilting his chin up while he studied his stitches for irritation, and fetching a glass of water for Bilbo.

"You need to eat something, you're too pale for someone who is recovering from Blight Fever." Bilbo winced as his stomach rolled.

"Ah... that's not a good idea, I'm afraid."

"Why not?" Thorin asked curiously.

"I kind of retched up everything that I had eaten last night, food isn't really working." The hobbit admitted, as the king would find out eventually. As Bilbo had guessed he would, Thorin frowned and studied Bilbo for a second.

"That was solid food, maybe you would like something like soup? Or maybe some bread with jam and water?" Bilbo didn't know why Thorin even bothered nowadays, nothing he said was considered appetizing- which was very odd, as hobbits eat a good bunch for their size.

"Soup's fine..." He muttered, just wanting the dwarf to stop _hovering_! He never did like being fussed over, and it was just strange that it was _Thorin _who was doing the fussing. Maybe if they switched roles it would be more... normal, but that clearly wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

As Thorin got up to leave, Bilbo finally relaxed into the bed. His mind was still against him on whether he considered Thorin a friend or not.

_He threatened to kill you! You cannot trust him! What happens when he finds another curse of greed, what will happen to you!?_

_He is taking care of you, he even let you use the royal library. Think, Bilbo, since when have you been accepted like this in the Shire? That's right, almost never ever since your mother died! All the others cared for was your riches, he cared about your health and personality._

_Have you forgotten that he threatened to leave you because of your personality? Let me explain the seventeen-thousand-bazillion times he said 'I will not risk this quest for one hobbit'!_

_But he continued to do so! He trusted you with the barrels, the dungeon, he doubted you because he was testing you! When he woke from the eagle, the first thing he said was 'the halfling'! That has to tell something to you! He risked both his life and the companies by saving you from the trolls!_

_Only because they didn't have anyone else loyal enough to go into the mountain! He doesn't care for you, he is using your loyalty to his advantage! What if Erebor isn't enough, sooner or later they'll have to expand their lands... also known as taking the Shire! Many know of the strange things that hobbits harbor in their homes, what if gold doesn't sate his lust for expensive objects?_

_That isn't possible, the gold was enchanted, as the tale goes- 'To find our pale, enchanted gold,' Also, they put reasoning behind pushing_ _you into the mountain. They were right as well! Smaug did not recognize your scent, and he certainly did not put you in as much danger as the other me seems to think._

_Shall I recall that Bilbo's arms were scorched for a week because of that last spurt of fire from Smaug? Or maybe I should point out how Thorin almost turned on Bilbo with a sword in hand? He was doing that calculating stare thing, remember?_

Just as he was getting tired of his self conscious arguing with itself, the door swung open again and Thorin came in with a steaming bowl. The door clicked softly behind him as he shut it with his boot-clad foot. Bilbo's stomach gave a growl when the smell hit him.

It smelled of sage and a hint of garlic, blended soothingly with chicken and fresh bread. It was marvelous. The hobbit eagerly reached for it as Thorin held it out, taking it with renewed hunger and inhaling it's wonderful scent deeply. Taking one of the rolls inside the bowl, he scooped up some the the soup onto it and devoured it.

The food was good, and Bilbo ignored Thorin while he ate. He was still deep in thought about whether or not he should trust the dwarf or not. The king was sitting with a book, silently reading while Bilbo had nothing to do but gorge himself with the food. Thorin would shift sometimes, his eyes darting from the book for a second before going back to the text, and Bilbo would try not to stare. He had three options.

Stare at Thorin.

Stare at the food.

Or stare out of the window.

All of which were boring through and through, so he just watched the skies from the window, sometimes looking at the ground. He did notice something though, movement down by the forest. Probably deer or some other forest wildlife, the area around Erebor was starting to bloom with spring in a month or so, and the snow hadn't been nearly as bad as Bilbo had feared it would be. The first year back was coming well.

As soon as he finished the food, Bilbo set the bowl aside. He could only stomach about half of it, but it had been a good meal. Getting from the bed, Bilbo wandered into the small kitchen-like area and got another glass of water. He drank it slowly, trying not to disturb his rolling stomach too much before putting the glass down and going to sit down at the desk.

There were a few books scattered at the wooden slab, and he picked each one up and studied them, not finding any particular interest in them, and finding himself quite bored.

"Thorin," Bilbo said, turning. "Igreo said that I would be able to exercise every few hours, by that I mean walk, and I'm bored. She said someone had do accompany me, so would you please come with me?"

The dwarf king got up, and Bilbo wouldn't have cared if he had gone or not- he wanted to do something and he didn't care who objected.

"Have you seen the gardens recently? They are coming in nicely, and a nice willow tree has grown near the center, it was probably planted a few years before Smaug attacked." Thorin said quietly, and Bilbo assumed that it was just to ease the tense silence that surrounded them.

"Er... no, I have not. Would you mind showing me? I do love gardens and plants!" The hobbit said quickly, following Thorin on quick footsteps and finding himself in awe. The garden wasn't a garden, more like a huge flowering plantation with a few dwarves here and there. It was amazing, and the strong glass dome above it seemed to let light in from all sides, allowing the plants to thrive.

"This is... wow..." Bilbo squeaked, approaching the nearest flower and studying it. "I've never seen plants thrive so well without cluttering everything- how do the roots not collide and compete!?"

"That's a secret." Thorin said from behind him, making the hobbit straighten up a bit. His voice was tinged with humor, and Bilbo smiled softly- his stomach giving a little flutter.

"Come, I'll show you the tree." The king said, beckoning Bilbo. The hobbit followed him eagerly, eyes bright and his stomach pains forgotten.

"A Weeping Willow." Bilbo murmured softly as he walked towards it. Touching some of the leaves softly, he gave a small smile. Weeping Willows were often planted after someone died in the Shire, a way for the corpse's body to give to the earth, even in death.

Ducking under a limb, he explored the inside of the willow, not surprised to find patches of moss and a few flowers growing underneath. It was peaceful, and one could not see anything of the outside world besides the sweeping motions of the slightly stirred branches as Thorin ducked in after him.

"I... There is a tradition in the Shire," Bilbo started, getting slightly choked up. "where we bury our dead and plant a Weeping Willow, so they can give to the earth and be reincarnated into a tree. My mother and Father both have their own."

Dammit, he was not going to cry. Instead, he explored more underneath the tree, grabbing one of it's limbs and testing it's strength. Carefully, he swung himself up onto the lowest branch, letting his legs fall and swing underneath him while he looked down at the very bewildered Thorin beneath him.

"What are you doing?" The king asked, head tilting slightly. Bilbo looked down at him, slightly breathless.

"I thought it was pretty obvious; I'm sitting in a tree." He said quickly before he could think, and then clapped one hand over his mouth. Thorin stared, clearly unamused.

"You shouldn't be doing anything strenuous." Thorin chided, offering his hand.

"False! I can exercise however I please to for forty minutes!" Bilbo called, and scooted down the branch. "Come up with me, it's not as gloomy as down there."

"That is not a good idea," Thorin said firmly, crossing his arms. "dwarves are not built to climb trees."

Bilbo snorted, patting the bark. "Neither are hobbits, unless you're scared...?"

He muttered the last bit, enjoying the way Thorin's attention was suddenly fully set on him, and the way his eyes blazed at the remark. Stiffly, the king grabbed the branch and pulled himself up clumsily, his heavy clothing dragging against the tree with soft clanking sounds. Bilbo grinned, scooting again and giving Thorin more room to settle.

"See, that wasn't so bad!" Bilbo said enthusiastically, but quickly noticed how Thorin's face was slightly glum. "Thorin?"

"A moment." His Majesty muttered, looking at the ground. "I'm not overly fond of having my feet off the ground."

Bilbo snickered to himself, eyes rolling.

"You're fine, besides, you didn't seem bothered when the eagles transported us on the plateau." He pointed out, and shrugged.

"I happened to be in and out of consciousness when the eagles picked me up, if you do not recall."

"Ah yes, feels almost like yesterday, doesn't it?" Bilbo recalled with a bitter tint in his tone. "Although I must say that I have comfortably adapted into your culture! Never did like cold nights on the ground." The hobbit chuckled, and looked at Thorin again. The dwarf was sporting a small smile, though his eyes were still downcast. Fluttering started in his chest, and Bilbo swallowed heavily.

"How has the city been recovering?" Bilbo asked, pushing aside the flutters and averting his eyes.

"The people are well, though many are poor beyond belief." Thorin seemed to see Bilbo's expression, because he quickly added onto his words hurriedly. "We have set up homes for those who are too poor to buy their own, and each new traveler gets some money and food when they come."

"How charitable." Bilbo mused thoughtfully, and Thorin smiled again. The flutters were back, little butterfly wings tickling his insides. Thorin was looking at him in an unsettling way, a way that made chills run down Bilbo's spine. He shivered, and the look was gone, replaced with a concerned one.

"Are you alright? We can head back if you wish to." The king offered, getting read to jump down. Bilbo grabbed his arm and shook his head, frowning.

"I'm fine, just got a chill. Please, if I wanted to go back I would tell you." He didn't realize it until a moment later that his hand had stayed there, and quickly snatched his hand back when he did notice. He blushed and looked down, trying not to look sick.

"Are you sure? You don't look too good..." Thorin said again, and Bilbo nodded.

"I'm not a child, Thorin, I know my limits." He said with a sassy voice and a quick grin, trying to take away how awkward he suddenly felt.

"Something is making me doubt that, your cheeks are red but you still shiver!" Thorin insisted, and Bilbo shook his head.

"I'm fine, please trust me when I say that. I'm fine." He repeated. Thorin reached out to touch his shoulder, and Bilbo almost flinched away. The concerned look seemed to intensify.

"Do you still fear me? I promise I will not harm you." The king said gently, and Bilbo was shocked at the sincerity in his voice. Yes, Bilbo did fear him, he feared everything about Thorin, but he still found himself drawn to the dwarf.

"I..." He swallowed. "Yes, I'm still afraid of you. I still think about that day whenever you are around. I still hold a deep guilt because of what I did... I hate everything you did, but I know it wasn't you." He hung his head. "I'm sorry, it still haunts me..."

He looked up to see hurt written upon Thorin's features, sadness and guilt not far beneath. Bilbo pressed his lips into a hard line, eyes fluttering.

"B-but I don't hate you, I actually love your company and I am extremely happy with how you have stayed by my side! I'm glad you have stayed with me and helped me and I just... I just don't know! It's all confusing!"

"I'm afraid you aren't making much sense." Thorin said calmly, way too calm for someone who had just looked like he had his heart broken.

"I just don't know how to word it!" Bilbo snapped, closing his eyes. "It's all of these weird feelings inside my chest and stomach and I just- my mind doesn't like it and I just feel uncomfortably comfortable around you!"

He didn't know he had been leaning forward until he felt rough leather on his face and warm arms wrapped around him. He sighed into the comforting presence, glad to finally have all of it off of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, and the arms tightened.

"You're forgiven, Bilbo. It is I who should apologize, I didn't know this war was going on inside of your head. I'm sorry." Thorin said quickly, leaving Bilbo to wonder if Thorin really should feel sorry. He had apologized many times already.

"You've been forgiven ever since Erebor was properly reclaimed, I just couldn't accept it." He mumbled into the king's chest, with vibrated with a soft chuckle from the dwarf.

"Plan on letting go any time soon?" He asked teasingly, and Bilbo tightened _his_ arms.

"Nope."

So they sat in silence, just comfortable silence. The chills were gone, the guilt was pushed aside (for now), and everything just seemed to relax as they sat on the low branch. Thorin was surprisingly warm, entirely difference from the last time they had hugged. No, that time it had been cool out, and the altitude did no help with that. The sun had also been setting, and his armor had been chilled. The only warmth he got from that hug was emotional. Yes, this was much different.

He shifted, but froze up as bright scarlet tinted his cheeks- he had turned his head and nearly touched his mouth to Thorin's.

They stayed like that a moment, frozen, and Bilbo leaned his forehead on Thorin's; closing his eyes and giving a content sigh before coming to his senses.

_What am I doing!?_

* * *

Ori and Dwalin sat together on the wall, Ori with his head in his hands and Dwalin with his arm snugly wound around the younger dwarf's waist. Ori was choking back laughter, his cheeks tinged pink and his shoulders shaking.

"You're a fool, Dwalin!" Ori giggled, breathing heavily. "I don't care about tradition. Courting gifts are only gifts, I don't expect anything in return. Your presence is enough for me!"

_Of course a scribe would say something as poetic as that. _Dwalin thought fondly, they had been discussing the courting going on, and Dwalin had confessed how he really had nothing to give. At first when the dwarf laughed at him, Dwalin had been wounded but it smoothed into anxiousness as his charming giggle lingered on for the first few minutes.

"Ori, this is serious. I know your brothers would be livid if you don't follow tradition, I don't fancy the thought of Nori trying to kill me while I rest, or Dori randomly dueling me while I'm on watch."

"You'll be fine, both Nori and Dori have to accept that I have grown up."

"You don't understand what I'm saying, Ori!" Dwalin muttered. "You're brothers have not had a squeaky clean past like you have, they could-" He was cut off abruptly.

"Precisely! The past! Those things are long over and done with, you can put your mind to rest." Dwalin could only relax slightly at the younger dwarf's words- he wasn't wrong, the acts had been done a long time ago, but Dwalin had never been the only one to take quick notice of Ori's family protectiveness.

"Dwalin?"

Ori's voice snapped him from his thoughts, and the warrior frowned.

"I'm sorry Ori, maybe you're right." Ori snorted at Dwalin's words, and got up from the ground.

"Of course I am right. Now, tell me about this rumor I've heard; is it true that the Kue's have sent their youngest to join your charge?"

* * *

"Thorin? Where in Durin's name are you?" Balin's voice reached the king's ears as he was snapped from his doze. Shaking the shoulder of the small hobbit that leaned on him, he quickly came to the conclusion that Bilbo had fallen asleep. _I knew he shouldn't have been out here so long!_

"Hobbit," Thorin whispered, shaking his shoulder again. They were on the ground at the moment, having climbed down after staring awkwardly at each other for five minutes and coming to a silent agreement that they should rest on the ground- preferably before either of them fell off. From then they sat side-by-side, not touching, not looking at each other, just talking before each of them fell silent and began to doze in the peaceful quiet. Thorin was more relaxed than he had been in awhile, and he felt gratitude to Bilbo for that.

"Thorin." His friend's irritated voice came again, and Thorin sighed; carefully removing Bilbo from his arm and getting up to venture past the sweeping branches of the willow and standing on the paved path, looking around for his elder friend.

Finally he caught sight of him, and quickly strode over with a welcoming pat on the back.

"Hello, what do you need?" Thorin asked quietly, carefully directing the elder away from the willow and further down the path. If Balin found unconscious Bilbo with him, he would never hear the end of it. Balin was staring at him incredulously, and Thorin stared right back, eyebrow raised.

"I came to give word, an orc scouting party has been seen around these parts. Dwalin wanted to alert you immediately, and we would have, if we could find you!" The accusing stare made Thorin want to chuckle. It had been awhile since someone was berating him. This was no laughing matter though, and he knew it.

"Have you sent out anyone to deal with them?" He questioned, "Do I need to reset the curfew for the city?" Thorin began to pace back and forth in front of his friend. The curfew certainly hadn't been set up for only the orcs, but the thieves and deadly night-dwelling snakes that hung around at night. Not to mention the ever-present haunting shadow of danger that lurked in every corner. Erebor had been reclaimed for too-little time for it to be taken again. All precautions would be taken, and it was still weak from the Battle of Five Armies.

"We've sent out some of the local guards to deal with them, and Dwalin has been personally checking every stand point for the past hour. We have things under control, but should something happen... You need to know what is going on in your kingdom, Thorin. You cannot be with the hobbit every moment of the day. Don't-" He said sharply, cutting off Thorin. "-even try to deny that you don't spend plenty of time with him, I'm willing to bet that he is the only reason you are here right now. It is not normal. I have nothing against you two, but you need to be aware that there are limits to friendship, and to being in a relationship."

Thorin faltered, his stride breaking and shoulders slumping. "Get to the point, Balin."

"Erebor isn't healed yet Thorin, we still have many unseen terrors awaiting us. Rumors are everywhere about Bilbo, about you, about your close pact- if you wish to call it that." The elder snapped. "Bilbo is an innocent hobbit, he doesn't know of half of the horrors that lurk out there." He paused, breathing in deeply. "They might capture and use Bilbo for ransom. They could use him to Erebor's disadvantage."

"Are you saying we cannot get him back in a peaceful manner? I know we are not the most cultured race, but we _can_ put our silver tongues to good use when we need them. Should I remind you of Bard and his boat?" Thorin growled.

"That would not be advisable. I remember a time where you would claim that you would not risk this quest for a simple hobbit. Times have changed, you have changed. Can you say the same now, Thorin? Can you say that you would not risk your life, your home, your heart, for a simple hobbit?"

Thorin grit his teeth, Balin's words stung and he could only shake his head.

"You're right Balin, I have changed. So has Bilbo. I need time, and I believe that I can come to terms over this... issue with the hobbit. It is almost spring, and he will be leaving late summer. Give me until the day he leaves, and I will figure this out. You have my word." He inclined his head to the old dwarf, eyes closing as he could only imagine what kind of disastrous conversation it would be.

_Oh yes, master hobbit, mind taking a seat while we discuss our relationship? No, not our friendship, our relationship. Yes, that one._

Could it even be called a relationship? The most intimate thing they had done was sit in a tree, hug, and touch foreheads. He supposed not, friendship it was... but he did want it to be something more.

"You may not have until then, lad." Balin warned before ambling away. Thorin stared at his back for a few moments before sharply turning to find the willow. He desperately hoped the hobbit hadn't awoken, that would lead to an odd conversation for sure.

No such luck.

The hobbit was sitting cross-legged when he ducked into the tree again, staring expectantly at where he came through.

"Where'd you go?" He asked curiously, leaning forward with his head cupped in his hands. Thorin walked over and sat beside Bilbo, leaning against the tree and sighing heavily.

"Balin was searching for me to give word of an orc party by our borders. We have things under control, but what kind of king would I be if I didn't know?" Thorin muttered, replaying their conversation over again.

"Orcs?" Bilbo squeaked, going completely still. "N-never mind, I would rather not know." He fell silent for a moment. "Hey Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"Um... if you want... to take your mind off of everything... we could play a game?"

Thorin turned his head to stare, raising one eyebrow. _Is he serious?_

"Very well... What kind of game do you have in mind?" He muttered.

"A game of riddles, I love a good mind-teaser!" Bilbo said, perking up a little. "Mother and I would trade them back and forth when I was young, it was just the most fun thing ever!"

"I see..." Thorin nodded, inclining his head slightly. "You may start, Master Burglar."

Bilbo tilted his head, eyes focusing on nothing for a moment before he gave a small, wry, smile.

"Golden treasures I contain, guarded by hundreds and thousands. Stored in a labyrinth where no man walks yet men come often to seize my gold. By smoke I am overcome and robbed, then left to build my treasure anew. What am I?"

Thorin snorted, the hobbit certainly wasn't holding back. Golden treasures, guarded by hundreds and thousands? No man walks in it, but men come for it? The smoke part threw him off even more. Racking his brain, Thorin frowned in concentration while looking at the quite smug-aired hobbit.

Smoke to be overcome with...

Golden...

Built anew...

Last Thorin checked, he could not make gold from other substances, so gold was completely out of the question. Could not be a dragon's hoard, as it was only guarded by one. It had to be something smaller.

A devious grin spread over his features and he proclaimed loudly;

"A beehive, you are a beehive."

"Very good! Most dwarves I have asked have come up with nothing, floundering in confusion until I revealed it." Bilbo nodded, and Thorin hummed in thought.

"Sorry to say your're out of time, draw a breath quick before it's too late! You can't cheat me and you can't dodge me... What am I?"

Bilbo pursed his lips as he thought, and Thorin kept his face neutral as the hobbit seemed to grapple with it in his mind. It was a rather dark tone, but it was a good riddle nonetheless, so why not use it?

"Oh!" The hobbit snapped his fingers. "Death! How clever! However, it is my turn now." He mulled over his thoughts for a few moments, eyes crinkling with thought.

"I am everywhere and everyone knows me, but as soon as you say my name I am gone... What am I?"

"How simple, that one is silence." Thorin said quietly, nodding.

"I agree, but I'm having some trouble coming up with new ones." Bilbo said, gesturing one hand for Thorin to go.

"Alright... Never resting, never still, moving silently from hill to hill, it does not walk, nor run or trot- all is cool where it is not."

Thorin was proud of this one. It was so simple, yet so unique in it's own way. Bilbo was resting his fingers on his chin while deep in thought, eyes flickering everywhere. Bilbo hummed and tsked, tapping his fingers.

"Ah... Sunshine?" He guess, and Thorin nodded. The hobbit eagerly leaned forward, eyes widened in delight.

"That one was rather good, I'll have to use it sometime!" He exclaimed, pausing a moment to think.

"There is something that is nothing, but it has a name. It joins our walks, it joins our talks, it plays in every game. What is it?"

Thorin had to think for awhile, looking at the grass beneath his overturned palms and mulling over it. Something that is nothing... there were few things such in the world, so that narrowed it down. The king furrowed his brow, frowning before it suddenly came to him. Of course!

"A shadow, it's a shadow." He proclaimed, giving a small smile.

Bilbo nodded, his eyes drooping as he leaned back on the tree.

"Game over," The hobbit yawned. "let's continue another time... I'm feeling rather tired."

* * *

**I** **_do _realize that I could have ended this chapter much better, but I must get this out so there aren't too many main points in one sitting, y'know? You may or may not have noticed how Balin was being a bit pushy, and I have _slightly_ made his attitude in this chapter a bit more like how he was in the book. Originally it was him who first doubted Bilbo verbally- claiming the famous line of; "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar", ect. This is probably not crucial to you, but I thought you should know.**

**As I promised in the notes from last chapter, this one did come out rather slow. Things should be picking up in their relationship from this chapter on- mostly thought-like and innocent wondering, but it will definitely start to define itself.**


	10. Though I Want To

It was seven moon-rises since the Battle of Five Armies, and all he could hear was the hissing. The dark brooding whispers of something unseen surrounded him, like a swath of rough linen. It vibrated back and forth in his skull, going on over and over and over. It wouldn't shut up, it wouldn't just stop and be quiet.

"Be..." He whispered, voice cracking in his guttural tongue. "Be... silent"

The rage was boiling within him, swishing back and forth in his taut and strained muscles. The beast raised from his perch, his head looking back and forth as he drew his lips into a snarl. The boraro gave a human-like grunt, blinking his eyes and prowling stiffly to look out of his cave-like home.

Two orcs stood there, one hefting a long ax and the other brandishing a mace. The Boraro snarled menacingly, before one quickly spewed out in fluid orcish.

"_We know of your kind, boraro, we come to seek a leader. One who will bring us victory against the dwarf-scum._" The orc spat the last few words, venom in his eyes. The boraro gave a small start, but slowly drew his pale tongue over his lips. "_What say you, Leko of the Redeemed Mist?_"

Leko thought for a moment, his long fingers reaching up to gently pet the long fur-like hair that was matted over his chest. How these orcs had found him, he did not know, but the whispers had not lied. His army had come, and now it was time to lead them.

"_Consider it done._"

* * *

"Just what have you been up to since-!" Gandalf was snapping before Bilbo walked into the room. The hobbit looked at the wizard, then to who it was he was talking to; Radagast. The wizard went silent as he walked in, holding a tray of tea cups and gently laying them on the table.

"Sorry, was I interrupting something?" The hobbit asked, curiosity budding. Gandalf gave Radagast a look, before waving on of his arms in a dismissing way.

"No, nothing at all." The wizard said, and Bilbo wondered if he was lying. It sounded like they had been in the middle of an argument before he came it... over what, well, that was a mystery.

"How are you feeling, Bilbo? You certainly have more color than the last time we spoke." Gandalf said with a small smile, gesturing for him to sit down. Bilbo did so gladly, feeling a bit breathless.

"I'm feeling much better, thank you." Bilbo said quietly, looking to Radagast from the corner of his eye. The wizard was self-consciously crossing his arms and holding his shoulders- he looked like a sulking child.

"That's marvelous to hear." Gandalf said, reclaiming Bilbo's attention. The grey-clad wizard reached for a tea-cup, which was a bit small in his hands, and took a sip. Bilbo did the same, though his hands shook a bit while doing so. "Tell me though, how is your stay here going so far? I know you haven't been out and about much, but I've seen both you and Thorin out... ah... exploring."

"I think Erebor is beautiful. The locals are both charming and exciting, and their customs are so much different than a hobbits. It is fun to find out about such things, I have enjoyed myself so far- not even Blight Fever could bring down the excitement of meeting Thorin's people." Bilbo said honestly, leaning back into the chair and tilting his head. "What of you, Gandalf? You haven't been here long, but you haven't been bedridden like me."

"I quite agree with you on Erebor's beauty, truly magnificent." The elder said softly, stroking his beard and his eyes distancing.

Bilbo shifted, sipping his tea when Radagast suddenly spoke, the wizard's eyes were darting around as if he was nervous.

"Ah- yes, yes, Erebor is very nice." He said in a rushed tone, eyes alight. "Have you seen the willow in the gardens? One of the guards told me it was rumored to be planted before Smaug came. I wonder if it was by accident or not..."

Bilbo nodded, having been there just earlier that week to study the very same tree he was talking about. IT had been about a week and a half since Thorin had first taken him, and the king seemed more busy with each passing day.

"Ah, yes. What a nice tree! It probably got lodged in a scale on Smaug and fell off- conveniently in the gardens." Gandalf said with a small half-smile. "Or perhaps a dwarf gardener put it there to help the cluttered air, I heard the air wasn't quite good back then."

Radagast leaned forward to take the third tea-cup, sniffing it before downing half of it in one go. Bilbo stared for half a second before sipping his own.

"I suppose the only way to tell would be if we cut it open. The rings on the inside will tell how old it is." Bilbo pointed out. "Maybe a bird carried it a few decades before we came, and dropped it here. We still haven't found all of the nests from the birds that sought lodging up in the ceiling enclaves."

Radagast smiled up at him, then gulped down the rest of his tea before setting it on the platter once more. "You're right, but we should wait a bit. I would hate to see a tree so nice be cut down just so we could see it's age."

Bilbo nodded in assent, looking to Gandalf. The other wizard was nodding as well, and Bilbo sipped his tea- finding he was almost done.

"Oh yes!" He said suddenly, his mind just then deciding to remind _why_ he had sought Gandalf out. "Can you tell me about this orc nonsense? The locals have been going on about it lately and I just can't get a straight answer from anyone!"

Gandalf froze in his seat, and Bilbo was certain his eyes darted to Radagast for a split second before returning to Bilbo.

"The orcs..." He said in a musing tone. "Well, it seems that the orcs have found a new leader. According to the mirkwood elves, it is a male boraro. His name, in common tongue, is Leko. Do you know what a boraro is?"

Shaking his head, Bilbo sipped his tea and waited patiently.

"A boraro is a hostile humanoid creature that lives near forests. They are pale and tall, with lots of thick fur over their chests. They all have large, droopy ears and their feet are turned to face the opposite way they are to originally go. They don't have knees, so they have a hard time standing up. They are cannibalistic, but carnivorous by nature- hunting with stones and being quite aggressive."

"That doesn't sound good." Bilbo muttered, getting up and stretching his arms- careful of the tea-cup he still held. "How did the elves know about this...? I know they live in a forest, but mirkwood isn't exactly paradise."

"I don't know how they came onto all of this information, but I do know that they have plenty of spies out and about." Gandalf said quietly, and Bilbo nodded.

"Well, I'm leaving now. You two are welcome to dinner when you are finished talking." He said invitingly, opening and closing the door softly before walking down the main hall. He knew Erebor like the back of his hand now, thanks to Thorin, and felt almost at home with it's looming arches and extravagant inhabitants.

He walked down the large hall, waving to a few locals and making his way to the library. He hadn't been able to visit the past few days, due to a few complications in his condition, and he was ready to sit down and read a good heart breaker.

No, romance is not just for girls.

"Bilbo!" A familiar voice called just as he reached for the door. The hobbit turned and looked at the young dwarf, raising one eyebrow.

"Kili," He greeted with a nod. "what may I do for you?"

"Thorin wishes to meet with you- and have you seen Fili anywhere?"

Shaking his head, Bilbo shrugged. "I haven't seen him since yesterday, and why does Thorin need me?"

"Oh... okay. Thorin didn't say why, but he was in the gardens last I saw... You should probably get going." Kili said quietly, looking a bit crestfallen.

"I will, and I'll keep a lookout for Fili as well." Bilbo assured, smiling softly and turning left after giving a short, "Goodbye!"

"Thanks." Kili called as Bilbo walked away, making his way down some flights of stairs and taking another turn- this time to his right. He soon found himself at the paved entrance to the plant-filled garden. It was more green now that the temperature had warmed, and they thrived in the longer-lasting sun every day. Scanning the area, Bilbo soon spotted Thorin and headed over.

"What's going on?" He asked, a bit concerned. Thorin looked anxious- a face Bilbo had learned to be wary of, and his eyes were stormy.

"Nothing too bad..." The king said, leaning forward a bit and gazing at something on the ground. Bilbo followed his eyes and raised his eyebrows.

"Now who did that?" Bilbo asked, stepping forward a little and brushing his fingers over the new growing plant. It was growing in the center of the pavement, bursting slightly through a small crack in the ancient stone.

"I do not know, but it is not the reason why I called you here." Thorin said, and Bilbo could only assume he was distracted, he was almost never as vague as this. Dwarves had the particular racial attribute of speaking whatever was on their mind.

"Well, I'm here." Bilbo said, leaning on his heels and waiting.

"Ah- yes." He said, suddenly snapping to attention. "I asked you to come here because Fili told me you were sad about something."

"What?" Bilbo tilted his head. He wasn't upset at all, really! There wasn't anything for him to be particularly sad about, other than wishing for home, he really didn't have any qualms or issues.

"I don't know, I just wanted to see if you were okay...?" It ended up more like a question, and Bilbo couldn't tell if Thorin was _flirting_ or just being plain old awkward. Probably the latter, what dwarf would take interest in a hobbit!? Or any king, for that matter!

"I'm fine, I wonder how Fili got that idea." Bilbo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Truly, the only thing that lurks in my mind is the thought of home... I do hope that someone is taking care of _my_ garden... even if it is nothing compared to yours."

"I'm sure yours is just as good, maybe even better, dwarves don't really get into agriculture like hobbits do." The compliment left Bilbo dumbfounded, and floundering for an answer- of just something to say!

"I'm flattered." He said eventually, scuffing his feet on the ground and waiting a moment.

"Thorin?"

"Hmm?"

"When our company traveled here, how did you not lose hope?" Bilbo asked, genuinely curious and shifting nervously. "I mean... you had to rely on a rag-tag team and an isolated hobbit..."

"I didn't lose hope because there was no hope in the beginning. When I found followers, it only gave me hope. We built it like a stone wall to protect us from the dangers that lurked out there. I gained hope from our company- including the isolated hobbit." Thorin said, and Bilbo smiled softly.

"Wise words to go by." He said eventually, looking at the small plant in the pavement.

There was a tense moment of silence, and Bilbo grew more antsy with each passing second.

"Is... Is there another reason you asked me over?" He finally got to nerve to ask, his voice hesitant.

"Not really, no. I was just concerned for your health is all."

_Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield. Concerned... something is making that sound fishy._

The hobbit pushed the thoughts aside, and sighed. This has to stop.

"You know, the others are talking a bit..." He began, leaning a bit towards Thorin. "... They're saying things about you taking fancy towards me."

The king visibly paled, eyes widening a bit, and he gave a small cough. He gave a small smile though.

"You know the company, Bilbo, they like to wag their tongues at people they shouldn't. A sneaky lot, we are. Us dwarves are quite taken with our silver tongues." He said, and Bilbo eased up, but only a little.

"Oh really?" The hobbit mused. "That's interesting. What of you? Caught any rumors lately?"

"Nothing out of the normal- though there was a new one today that has me quite confused."

"And what would that be?"

"Many speak of Doll retreating from his position in rank and retiring early." Bilbo went still, tilting his head.

"Why would he do that?" The halfling asked.

"Mahal knows, it's only a rumor." Was the reply he got. The king beckoned for Bilbo to follow, and he was soon trailing Thorin from behind. "Have you seen the willow recently?"

His voice was steel, and it made Bilbo wish to shiver. Shaking his head, Bilbo spoke up with a shaky voice.

"Er... No, why?"

"There has recently been a vandalism upon it." Bilbo paused mid-step, eyes widening.

"W-what?! Who would vandalize such a natural masterpiece?" The hobbit muttered, looking down at his fur-layered feet and blinking. "More importantly, I suppose, why would they?"

"I don't know." Thorin replied quietly, and Bilbo found that they had paused in front of the tree. "Whoever they are, they didn't leave evidence."

Peering over Thorin's shoulder, Bilbo looked at the tree and tilted his head. He didn't see anything wrong with it. "Is it not on the outside?"

"It's rather... carved into the trunk." Without any sort of warning, Thorin took Bilbo's hand and lead him around the tree and dipped under some leaves.

Once Bilbo's eyes adjusted, he had to stifle a gasp. Deep gashes ran through the trunk of the tree, and the words_ 'Dijnu hyadâkh ghivasha, urùthûkhikizu hyêmrûr ra hurumizu tada khajimuhîzd ana zu'. _Bilbo didn't know what the words meant, but by the way Thorin's jaw tightened he had to guess it wasn't something good.

"What does it say?" The hobbit asked, going up to the tree and tracing the words.

"Trust is a rare treasure, hand it out scarcely and honor those that give it to you." Thorin replied in a deadly voice, his eyes blue steel. "Why would someone who has clearly lost my own trust put something like that on this?"

"Thorin, the tree isn't ruined." Bilbo said soothingly, tracing the scarred areas on the bark and nodding. "It is still living. If anything, it is almost like you and I now. It has it's own battle wounds, it's own story to tell."

"How is it like you or I?" The king asked, coming up behind Bilbo and giving the tree a long stare.

"It has experienced pain, Thorin." The halfling said quietly. "All living things feel, and this tree has undoubtedly felt pain from being hacked upon. It has experienced pain like you and I can't experience without dying. The tree is strong, old, and hardy. It's going to take a bit more than a few scars to pull it down from it's perch of life."

Thorin opened his mouth, but Bilbo interrupted him- something he would not have done just six months prior.

"All scars heal over time. This is in the past, and though the emotional and physical wound is still fresh in our minds, it will fade sooner or later. Learn from the tree Thorin, and stand tall and proud even when beaten."

"Bilbo..." The king said in a warning voice, but Bilbo didn't listen, just going on.

"No! Don't interrupt me! This is a tree, and as a hobbit it has a symbol for me. It may not be such a big deal to those who don't know of symbolism, but it is a huge deal for a hobbit who has been raised with these customs."

What had started out as Bilbo trying to sway Thorin's anger turned into Thorin trying to comfort Bilbo.

"Bilbo, please." Thorin said soothingly. "It's okay. Like you said, it is in the past now. Calm down."

The hobbit didn't realize until now that he was trembling. His shoulders shook ever so slightly and he kept unconsciously shaking his head. Thorin suddenly wrapped his arms around Bilbo.

"It's okay. Bilbo what's wrong? You've been acting strange for just over a week now. What's bothering you?"

"I..."

"You...?"

"I miss home. I don't want to leave Erebor but I dearly miss my home in the Shire. I miss my familiar kitchen. I miss my chair. I miss my garden. I miss everything. I don't want to go home though." _I miss my mother and father. I miss the way the wind would tussle the grass of the hills on a bright day. I miss sunlight. _

Thorin fell silent, his presence suddenly not-so warm anymore.

"You... don't want to leave?" Was his hesitant voice.

"I love it here. I love the locals, the food, the halls. It's almost like home to me now. I think... I think I would miss this place more than I would miss my home. I would miss you."

Bilbo let the words fly from his mouth without thought. It was only when Thorin pulled away to stare at him did he really go over what he said, and he could already feel the harsh blush spread over his features.

"You would... miss me." Thorin echoed. "I would miss you too... If you left."

_What._ That was certainly _not_ what he had been expecting. Oh yes, his face was burning up now, and he could feel the tension rise by two-thousand percent as they continued to look at each other.

"If?" The hobbit asked, blinking. "Are you implying that I could... could _stay..._?"

"If you wish to, I have no qualms with you staying here."

Bilbo nodded shakily.

"I would like to stay here... but I don't know. I just... I have family, you know? They might miss me. I have cousins and aunts and uncles that have always been dear to me."

"You don't have to make the choice today, Bilbo. You have plenty of time until your scheduled leave." It took a moment for the hobbit to realize that Thorin had actually been using his name.

The two were still awkwardly close together, with Thorin's hands placed gently at the crook of Bilbo's elbows and his chest inches from the hobbits. Bilbo's hands were placed at Thorin's shoulders, remaining there from the hug. They stood like that for a good few minutes, before Thorin slowly leaned forward to lay his lips against Bilbo's forehead.

"Take as much time as you need."

* * *

**Hello! You may notice there is a huge OOC difference in this. I am sad to say that this is because the chapters will now be turning a bit more boring due to the fact that I'm not as 'into' it as I was a few weeks ago. Though I will still be updating at least once a week, the plot will slow down and pick up with each new chapter. Calm yourself, no one dies... Well, no one from the books.**

**This chapter is shorter, the word count being just above 3,000. I must say that I don't like this one as much as my other chapters, it's too OOC for me, to say the least, and a bit mushy for someone like me. Ugh.**


	11. Caaaaaan You Feel the Loooooove Tonight?

It had been a week since the last time Thorin had seen the hobbit. Had he scared him off? Hopefully not, that fond little feeling in his chest had grown a bit the day Bilbo had calmed him down in the gardens. It had actually been the only thing on his mind since his last encounter with the smaller man... Had he been too forward for Bilbo's tastes?

He had considered telling Balin, as the older dwarf would be keeping a close eye on Thorin's whereabouts no matter what, and this would just relieve some of the weight from his shoulders. He didn't do it though, as it hadn't been anything _really _meaningful. Until Thorin decided to officially court Bilbo, which at the moment was almost like a nightmare away, he would not tell Balin any of his thoughts.

Now Thorin was sitting at the throne, listening to the treaties that other nations offered. Trade, livestock, slaves- they all would offer anything to get a bit of his gold. He would listen with sharp ears and judge with calculating eyes until he eventually would come to a conclusion of yes or no. It wasn't a big bother any more to have gold given away... Until it was ill-used.

"What do you intend to use our wealth for?" Thorin would ask in a commanding tone- he had to be strict with everyone outside of those he trusted most, and he would have to be even more alert when these words passed his lips.

Some would greedily smile, others would frown, and others had a perfectly controlled face; as if they were prepared for any question that the king threw at them. It was sickening. Most wanted the gold for themselves and maybe a select few- just as blind as Thorin had been at first. Except for a few. Those few who would give a shy, tentative tilt of their head or a gracious bow- or even go as far to get on their knees.

"My people!" Some would cry.

"Our imports!" Others would plea.

Both a good answer, but he wanted a certain faction to be his ally, one that would give an honest answer. Perhaps a new ruler, young and innocent, or an old ruler; wise and kind.

"To pay those who work for our gold," He wanted them to murmur.

"To give to those who can't support themselves," He wanted them to smile and nod.

"To find a treasure, not in gilded slums or poor friends, but in trust and peace of mind!" Was the cry he wished to hear most of all. That was it. He wanted to see them out of the greed that came with his wealth, he wanted to see them flounder and fumble with it- even in their honest haste.

Rising from his throne, Thorin dismissed the company he had for the day. It was nearly sundown, and he hadn't had time in a long while to go dine with his friends. He wished to see them now, knowing well enough that they had landed nice jobs and got paid well- the respect that the kingdom showed them was no small factor either, and the king was sure that he would find a room full of happy dwarves.

Maybe Bilbo would be there.

That little twinge of hope that Thorin felt when he thought that aggravated him to no end. Since when had he, King Under the Mountain, have time for such useless yearning? No dwarf in the right mind would approach Bilbo, and Thorin was fairly certain that Bilbo didn't carry interest to someone in Hobbiton. Hobbiton... was that his villages name? Or was it town? It was lost in the endless sea of worries in Thorin's mind.

Arriving at the door to the dining room, Thorin pulled it open and walked in- taking off his 'royal' attire at his seat and draping it over his chair. His 'royal attire' being a cape-like fur lined coat and his crown.

As he had suspected, most of the others were in the room as well. The few missing being Oin, Bofur, Bifur, and -oddly enough- Balin. Otherwise everyone, including Bilbo, was cheerfully eating and conversing. As usual, Bilbo sat on his right and Dwalin at his left. Bilbo was talking with Ori about books, and Dwalin was looking at Thorin expectantly.

"Well?" He asked, as if he actually wanted to know about Thorin's boring-as-hell day.

"Two new trading partners. Both lie west of here... The elves have yet to make a permanent appearance, though a letter from Elrond was received today." Thorin said in a bland tone, and suddenly Bilbo joined their conversation.

"Lord Elrond? What did the letter say?" The hobbit asked, and Ori peered out a bit from behind him.

"It was a peace offering. He is a long ways away to open any trade from us and he wishes to send some of his people here to help us rebuild. I don't understand why though, the only thing we can offer to his people is enchanted gold and a bit of shelter."

"Maybe that is all he wants. I know he isn't quite a sociable elf, but he is kind." Bilbo said softly.

"I'll believe that when Thranduil takes off his blasted flowery robes and damned branch-crown to dress properly." Dwalin muttered, and Thorin chuckled. The hobbit looked absolutely miffed, but otherwise did not comment on the remark.

"Thranduil and Elrond are two separate elves, you don't really know of his intentions. He isn't asking for gold, he just wants to help." Dwalin just shook his head at Bilbo's words, and Thorin clenched his jaw- he didn't understand why the hobbit defended those blasted elves so.

There had been a time where Thorin accepted elves- even as far to respect them. When Thror suddenly decided he would not share the precious gems they craved, the king-to-be did not understand. That had been just a week before the blasted dragon attacked- a week before he grew to despise the horrid elves. Thorin still held anger over that, but he was not his father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. He was Thorin Oakenshield, heir to the line of Durin. He would be different, he had vowed this the moment he was fought out of his madness and greed.

"The elves do not matter. What's in the past is gone for good, there is nothing we can change." Thorin said firmly, taking a swig of ale. "If we have any quarrel with the elves, it is of the way Thranduil had treated us while we dwelled in his own kingdom. Be it we were trespassing or not, we were there for a good and important cause." He murmured, and earned himself a happy look from Bilbo. He suddenly felt warm.

Thorin picked at the food, slipping some sausage into his mouth so he wouldn't have to speak much. Bilbo was suddenly telling Dwalin about a few adventurous books he had recently read that sounded a lot like their quest.

_He hasn't been this chatty in quite a long time._ The king thought, listening in for a moment before realizing something.

_His writing. He still hasn't received it! _Thorin had convinced Radagast to give him the leather satchel that held Bilbo's writing, saying that things don't really stick to leather, and even if a leaf or part of the plants did, he needed what was inside of the satchel, not the thing itself.

He had safely removed the scribbled-one paper, it didn't really look like a story until he squinted at it and remembered that he wasn't reading in Khuzdul anymore. After a long day of reading in his own tongue, it was a bit difficult to transition between common and others. However, within two lines of reading he felt he was trespassing on Bilbo's writing, and had put it back into the satchel. The bag itself was in his chambers at the moment, resting on his bed with a few of his own paperwork over it.

Nori said something loud over the hum of chatter, snapping Thorin out of his thoughts.

"Pardon me asking Bilbo, but does it bother you that there are stitches inside of you?"

"No, not really." The hobbit replied with a faint smile, and everyone fell silent.

"You gave us all a real scare you know." Gloin said quietly, nodding to the table and keeping his eyes low.

"Aye, it wouldn't be the same here without Bilbo." Bombur hummed, and the usually silent dwarf smiled caringly.

"Erebor wont be the same when you leave, you know?" Fili piped up, and Kili followed his lead.

"We would all miss the bubbly and spirited little hobbit!"

Bilbo gave Thorin a look, and the king felt like he could see right through his thoughts. The look said, _did you put them up to this?_

Shaking his head, the king sighed and put some more food in his mouth, saving his breath. His peers could go on for days if someone riled them up, and something as peaceful as this was no exception.

"Rightfully so, I think we all would miss him in our own ways." Ori uttered near-silently.

"Why must you go, Master Boggins?" Kili asked, frowning. Bilbo rose to his feet so suddenly that the whole table went dead silent.

"Now see here," He said, wagging his finger. Thorin could almost laugh. "I'm not dying, so I don't know why you are all so mopey. The next Durin's Day is near three months away, not tomorrow! Besides, who ever said that I was leaving... I've been considering staying and..."

The table erupted into cheers, and almost every dwarf surged forward to give Bilbo a pat on the back or a hug or whatever it was they wished to do. Thorin could almost taste how awkward Bilbo felt. Only Fili, Dwalin, Oin, and Thorin himself stayed sitting; watching with weary eyes.

Whatever Bilbo had planned to say was now long-gone as he sat down when the dwarves broke away from him. His cheeks were tinged a light pink color, and he kept his eyes low. Sliding his fork against his plate, Thorin nodded to Bilbo.

"I would say that there is no pressuring for you to stay, but I'm afraid their actions say otherwise." The king said as soon as the other dwarves started up their chatter again. Shaking his head, he prodded at the food on his plate. "I have something to give you in my room, if you are willing to accompany me. I'm sure that you will find yourself very happy when you take it."

"I'm afraid I've lost my appetite at the moment, so why not? Lead the way." Bilbo nodded to the door, rising to his large feet and waiting.

Thorin did lead for a brief moment, donning his royal attire before opening the door and letting Bilbo leave before exiting. Then they walked side-by-side, the silence coated thickly in the air.

What was the hobbit thinking about? Was he still scared of Thorin, as he had confessed, what seemed like, a long time ago? Hopefully not, as if it wasn't awkward enough with just the normal tension they had.

They walked for a long while, Thorin mentally cursing his room for being so far as Bilbo visibly began to grow weary. Trying to relieve some tension, Thorin tried to make small talk.

"How are you feeling?" He asked in a soft voice, ready to have his question unanswered. The hobbit was silent for a little while, seeming as if he was pondering the question.

"I feel more steady on my feet than I have in a long bit of time." He replied after a few moments. "I think that I am fine now, honestly. The stitches don't really hurt and my scar underneath is closed up nicely- I'l have to ask Elorin to remove them soon."

Thorin nodded and put his hand against the door, pushing it open and walking into his room.

"It's over here," He said, gliding towards his bed and removing his paperwork from it. "your writing- I know it was really important to you, so I managed to save it."

The hobbit's eyes had widened, and he rushed forward to snatch the writing from Thorin's hands.

"Oh my goodness! I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you!" He said in a rushed pitch as he opened the satchel and practically ripped the paper from it. "I can't believe you did this just for me...!"

Thorin shrugged. "It's a favor, Bilbo. You've done plenty for me, besides, as I said earlier, it was- still is, important to you."

Bilbo stopped leafing through the papers, giving Thorin a small smile. "Thank you, really. In truth I had forgotten about my writing until now, I'm glad you managed to save it. Thank you."

The king waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.

"You've done more than enough for me in the past, consider it a way of me thanking you." He paused, hesitating for a millisecond. "Bilbo... There's been something on my mind, since that day we were at the willow..."

Bilbo's head immediately snapped up, eyes widening a bit as a blush tinged his cheeks. "A-and, what would that be?"

"Do you remember how you mentioned the other dwarves- how they said that I was starting to fancy you?"

He was quaking on the inside, his stomach threatening to turn over with each word. No turning back now.

"Yes, I remember." Bilbo ran his finger against the edge of the scrawled on paper, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out he was desperately avoiding any eye-contact. "You said they were just making jest."

"I may have been untruthful in that moment." Now Thorin avoided eye-contact, backing up a step and shifting his feet.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I do fancy you." _There._ It was out. Thorin was definitely _not_ blushing.

"Oh." The hobbit said the word like it was the simplest thing to comprehend. "I suppose I fancy you as well."

"Not in a friend way." Thorin whispered, grabbing his bed post with one hand. "In a more than friend way."

"Yes." The hobbit agreed. Mahal above, how was he taking this so well? The king had to practically rip out his emotions and dissect them to figure out what they meant, and he was just... _agree-ing_.

There was a pregnant silence, and those just seemed all too common in the days prior that Thorin quickly tried to get it away.

"I don't wish to court you yet." He forced out. "It's too soon, and I want to know you better."

_There._ That flicker in Bilbo's eyes, something stirring in the hazel depths. The way he shifted from foot to foot- Bilbo was just as nervous as Thorin.

"Yet?" The hobbit mumbled, sounding quite happy even in the hushed tone.

"Yet." Thorin repeated with a grin.

"Well, what do we do until then?" Thorin froze at the question. He quite honestly did not know, it was something he hadn't really thought about.

"Continue as if we are courting, but we're not?" He guessed. "Remember when you asked me about the way we court? Well I do have my own special plans, as king, and no one will really assume a thing."

"Yes yes, I remember." Bilbo said, nodding in agreement and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "That's not what I meant though."

"Oh?" Thorin rose an eyebrow, confused. "Then what did you mean?"

"I meant what do we er... physically do?"

"_What?_"

"No! No! No! Not like that I mean like- like- I don't know do we do-!" The hobbit gave a flustered sigh, and Thorin gripped the best post harder. "Do we stay near each other and cuddle and hold hands- you know, stuff like that. Like people in relationships do."

"If there aren't people around, then sure- unless you wish to be open about this... relationship."

Thorin was no doubt blushing furiously now- he never had been good with feelings. Bilbo's face was pink as well, and he clutched onto the papers as if hanging on for life.

"No one needs to know, for now." Bilbo finally said, exhaling slowly. Thorin nodded and shifted awkwardly.

"Well, what now?"

"Well..." The hobbit approached Thorin, who immediately tensed up. "We're alone now, so we might as well make the most of it."

He set the papers aside and gave the king an expectant look. Wetting his lips nervously, Thorin opened his arms just in time for Bilbo to huddle himself into the king's more broad chest.

"I'm not good at this romance thing." Thorin whispered, kissing the top of Bilbo's head.

"Let me help you then." The hobbit replied, leaning back and wrapping his arms around Thorin's neck.

When their lips met, Thorin could almost feel the tension leave the air. It was a quick, chaste, kiss and didn't last more than a few seconds, but a kiss nonetheless.

And it still left Thorin breathless.

"You're blushing like mad." Bilbo snickered, and Thorin chuckled.

"I could say the same to you, Bilbo."

It was true, color was still smudged over his cheeks and it seemed that the hobbit too was breathless.

"Thorin?"

"Yes?"

"Again."

* * *

**I'm so sorry but I must cut you off there because I hate jumping between time zones in chapters it just makes everything confusing. I re-watched the movie, and I'm gathered a playlist to help me concentrate on writing this and not going onto Tumblr or DeviantART or any other sight I happen upon. This took way too long to be so short. Ugh, I'm horrid at romance- so if it's too cliche for you, I do understand.**

**Ugh, this chapter is less that 3,000 words. I'm angry at myself for doing such a blasted awful job in keeping promises. This one is even a day late as well! **

**In other news, when this is finished I have been thinking about doing a Slave!AU, or a Dark!AU on my account in AO3. When this story is finished I will be heading to that sight for a bit- it happens to have a few people that I like to trade ideas with.**

**The next chapter is more action than romance, FINALLY! :D You'll be getting a peak inside Leko's head for at least seventeen paragraphs, I hope.**

**Yay! Bilbo got his writing back!**


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